This Old House…

I am very glad that I’m coming back home in two weeks because I do not like it in this house. There is always so much tension, and I know that a good portion of it is aimed at me, as was illustrated tonight at the “house meeting”. (I’m not using quotes to suggest any kind of disbelief that it was a real or proper house meeting. I’m denoting that that’s what they call it.) At the heart of it, it’s my fault for jumping into this situation without looking. I knew it was a mistake the moment I began to imagine leaving Katy for here. Therefore, I am not blaming anybody but myself. This is all happening because I wanted it to. Well, it’s not like I waved a magic wand and made things happen. They could have gone many different ways, and I hoped that this adventure would have turned out to be the end of my struggle to find a niche in society, but in my cold, logical mind, I knew that it would most likely end up sucking a whole lot. All in all, it hasn’t been as bad as it could have been. Then again, it can still get worse in my last two weeks here.

One of the tenants here is a 20 year old kid, and he has an attitude of superiority over me because he and the others are letting me stay here. I acknowledge that they are doing me a huge favor, but that doesn’t mean that I have to act like this one kid is my master and agree with everything he says and apologize for every offense that he imagines I perpetrated. I’ll sleep in the snow before I act like his subordinate. I would explain to him that he holds nothing over me and that his attitude is totally uncalled for, but his ears are plugged by his emotions. They block ideas from getting into his mind, like everyone in the months following the teenage years. I’ll just try to be cordial until it’s time for me to go back home.

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