You are a rodent, disguised by a human body. It has gotten to the point where I don't want to wake up on the weekends. I don't mean this in a Livejournal "I want to jump in front of a train" way though. There is nothing quite as amazing as being loathed by someone in your sleep, and being the subject of someone's anger before you even awake and confront them in any sort of way. I wake up, I leave my room, I get yelled at and in my half-alert state I become quite bewildered. I was sleeping! What bad things could I have done while I was sleeping? And this sets the precedent for my weekend wakings. Godzilla tries to kill me with glares, with tones of voice, with slamming around of stuff. I ask her, "if cleaning makes you so angry, why do you do it? Let me do it if you're going to be insufferable." The other part of this is that these wrongs that I supposedly must commit with my evil alter-ego cackling all the while, are things I have never been aware that I should even do in the first place. Who knew that fuzzies on the inside of a washing machine were enough to make someone go ballistic- that the washing machine should be washed out everytime I use it to prevent this dirt buildup? Dirt in a washing machine? We are amazed.

The real problem that is arising is that it isn't seeming so unfeasible to move out right now. Sure, I have no money, but I'm starting to value my sanity over my comfort, and taking the bus to school every morning for an eleven o'clock class, from St. Albert, is not such a formidable pain in the ass all of a sudden. Like, I'm really getting tired of this, and the more I entertain the thoughts of throwing all my stuff into garbage bags and leaving, the more I know I'm more likely to even do it if I'm pushed far enough. But in all this, there is my grandma- this is the rub right here. Hell, it's the thing that keeps me here. I don't want to leave her alone with Godzilla, and I know it would be really really selfish of me to pack up and go right now, because she's already so stressed out. So, I'll stay. And really, I'm more prepared to say, "so why don't you move out?" to Godzilla, then offer to move out myself, when it really comes down to it. Because I know that I am an intrinsically good person. I also know that I'm not a slob, and actually fairly meticulous when it comes to being a clean roommate. I also know that it is not me who is the unreasonable party here-I am not the freak. But I have to say, my confidence is always sort of being undermined by all of this crap, so it's hard for me to even think that I am a good person sometimes without sounding like I'm lying to myself.

It all comes down to priorities though. Godzilla's priorities are to clean until her hands are raw, and to do it fast enough that she can watch TV for the rest of the day, and by extension, the rest of the week, without having to worry about cleaning. Her priorities are to leave the house only for the essentials, to have no friends, and to be a substitute teacher with no hope in hell of ever retiring.

My priorities are somewhat different. But everytime I get confronted with something I have "done wrong- or a wrong committed by inaction and lack of 'unselfish foresight'" I wonder, "when have you said, 'gee thanks for doing that. Gee, you did a good job of that when you did it. Oh, thanks for doing all my chores for the last month," and thusly, I am not suprised at my own "behavior" because really, when you can't do anything right, why try? Why continue to agonize over the details of your housecleaning when you should be doing homework, if it's never going to be good enough? I really have to get out of here. 1.5 semesters left.
  ¶ 2:47 PM