8 More Days

That’s how soon I get to leave this place and go back to nice warm Texas. I’m very tired of the way I’m treated in this house, like nothing I say means anything because I’m not on the lease or paying rent. I am paying a portion of November’s utilities, so you’d think that would get me some respect, but no. They can’t really force me to pay anything anyway, so I could just tell them that I’m giving them as much consideration as they’re giving me. Nicole and Nichole haven’t done or said anything to annoy me, but the other two are complete jackasses. They seem nice sometimes, but many times they’ve treated me with complete disrespect because I don’t pay rent here. They think we’re back in medieval times and I’m their vassal. Jake (or whatever his name is, it doesn’t matter) is overemotional, manipulative, and very arrogant, and his arrogance doesn’t match his abilities. He’s a child. Then there’s Cal (again, his name is insignificant), who stomps around the house in a constant rage whenever he isn’t in his room stinking it up with marijuana. I don’t mind that he smokes. I think he should smoke a whole lot more. What I don’t like is that he hates his life and takes it out on me when I do the littlest thing to set it off, like not take off my shoes the instant I come into the house. He goes into his “angry dad” routine, lecturing me on the rules of the house, which I don’t give a shit about, honestly. If he and Johnny weren’t such idiots, I’d have some respect for them, but this is how it is.

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