Chapter 87
Lay Off I’m Starving!

First off, my bathroom door is broken. Have I mentioned this before? Because it is. It doesn’t close properly; luckily, it hasn’t trapped me in the bathroom…except that one time, but the door doesn’t close on the first try anymore. So when I have to go to the bathroom and it usually means now because I don’t go when I first feel the need to, I wait until I have to go to the bathroom I am sitting there for a good 30 seconds fighting with this door. 30 seconds in the “I’ve really gotta go” world is like a lifetime, it’s a burst bladder, an accident waiting to happen (literally). It’s a conundrum (thanks to the little boy from “The Ring” for that last sentence, which of course is a movie quote). This was not what I was going to talk about but since I just came from my little bathroom and was a bit flustered I thought I’d write about it, so that everyone is up to date on my current living situation.
While I’m at updating current living situations, Diva and Jelly Bean are doing fine, they are total BFF again and they like me, so that’s good. I was thinking about it the other day, whether or not to tell them about the Inner Circle. They are in it, but do not know it. I decided against it. Particularly because I am the weak link in the Inner Circle, I am the third point in a pointless shape, yet, the weakest point. Since Diva and Jelly Bean are BFF I am extra. Without me, this would be the inner line, not as cool sounding. I have never been the extra in the Inner Circle. The original Inner Circle was of course the best one, where we all had something in common and came together by some magical force of the Inner Circle gravity. After that though Sweet Pea and I were the true strongest points, neither of us ever had to worry about being “released” from the Inner Circle, because we were the Inner Circle. The third piece was picked up and dropped off as we pleased. If you just look at the history of the Inner Circle you can see how this happens. The Antagonizer was at one point a part of the Inner Circle but was easily replaced by another roommate…several times. Whether or not she knew it, I’m not sure, we don’t send out an official memo or pink slip or anything. So being in the delicate position where the Antagonizer once stood, I have chosen to not allow this monster Sweet Pea and I have created to destroy me. So in secret I have enrolled two of my roommates in my secret cult.
The drama still whirls around Motor Mouth though, how could it not? She’s like a plant that needs light, she needs drama. I don’t think she even realizes it, because she talks constantly of hating drama, yet it makes her thrive and grow. I kind of feel sorry for her because if she is telling the truth about hating drama her life will forever suck because she will always gravitate to it. In the meantime I hear comments from the other roommates like, “I like Motor Mouth, but when she does this or when she does that.” So pretty much about 95.8% of the time they do not like her. I have slowly just begun to kill her with kindness, though it was not my intention. The dishwasher broke and since Motor Mouth likes to leave dishes out to get crusty and almost impossible to clean, her mess from a dinner she made for a large group of people was sitting in the kitchen yesterday when I finally shuffled in around 11am. I was just in the mood to feel like I was in Rexburg again so I started to do the dishes. Guess what? I wasn’t pissed off while I did it. While I was at work though she texted me (because she gets free Text messages I however…do not). She said “thanks!” thinking that I had done it to be nice to her but my motives were totally self therapeutic. I’m really just waiting for her to move, as is my family and also my other two roommates, but I don’t think she will. She has a good deal here, she’s overtaken two bedrooms (because we have the ability to have a fifth roommate but we can’t because first…we don’t want one, secondly we can’t fit them anywhere). She’s got her stuff on the bookshelf in the living room; she’s got the dining room table and stuff all over the living room like the TV stand that is currently TV-less right now but sure does have a lot of pictures of her on there, I feel like I’m walking through the apartment in “While You Were Sleeping” and the guy has only pictures of himself in nice expensive frames all over the place. And you want to know something? Sure I have a lot of crap, but it’s all contained to my room and my bathroom, so I don’t appreciate when my roommates say something about how many books I have (because they have mentioned things about my books…don’t they read?) I like my books, I’ve actually read my books, it’s no Great Gatsby where I have the books but haven’t read them. I keep my crap in my room, I don’t spread out…and I want a couch! My sister is going to sell me one of her couches. She was actually going to give it to me for free…which means that she really has changed since high school, but I wanted to be able to help them out even if it’s just a little, financially. But since I was offering to pay she said that she’d throw in the couch cover (a $100 value) with the couch totaling $60. So pretty much I’m paying $60 for a couch cover and getting the couch for free. But where to put it? Hmm...I live in the house which should have some spot for this couch. I ask my roommates if I can get a couch, “Where are you going to put it?” one asks. “I’ll find a spot,” I said. Then Motor Mouth starts asking questions about the color of the couch and such, like that’s going to help me find a spot for it. But the way she is asking it’s like she expects it to become hers. No, I’m not buying this couch and saying, “Here’s a burnt offering roommates, please, sit on it, make it yours, and take it when you move out.” Hell no, this is my couch; I’m buying it now should I ever be able to afford a place on my own. I personally would be happy if they never sat on it. But since that’s impossible, I sometimes sit on their furniture then I won’t hurt them for sitting on mine. But I just felt like telling them that I pay rent too, and I don’t have anything in this house except for what it’s my room. I can’t fit a couch there so let me put the damn thing in the living room, or I don’t know maybe Motor Mouth could move some of her crap out of the extra bedroom and I could put it there, heaven knows she’s taking up too much space.
Crap, couch drama was not what I was going to write about either. In fact I was going to write about George. Our dog, dogs don’t fall under the “Identity Protection” of this do-dad so I just say his name, George. So yesterday I was over at my parent’s house before work. I took George on an hour long walk so that he wouldn’t whine or chew because that’s what Reader’s Digest told me to do. It didn’t stop the whining. Anyway, so my sister and cousins had been over there but they left first so it was my job to get George put away so he wouldn’t aimlessly wander and destroy. I tried to get him in the kennel but he is deathly afraid of that thing, so I took him upstairs to get him into Spam’s room, he went, but I noticed a bag of stuff animals on the floor and thought better of it and got him out of there. I tried for Burrito’s room, but George has been put in there a lot so he flipped and ran down the stairs. I’ve never seen that dog run down stairs. So I figure I don’t need to lock him up just yet anyway. So I go to the bathroom and when I come out George has gone into my purse and stolen my bag of fig newtons. I flip; Fig Newtons are the final straw. Nobody eats my Fig Newtons. So I yell at him which is completely pointless with a dog, but it made me feel better. But then I tell him that he’s given me a good reason to put him in the kennel. That he does understand and he fights me tooth and nail to avoid lockdown. He gets away from my grip and I am chasing him around the house, in circles at first, his huge tail is waving back and forth like this is a game, but of course I’m laughing too at how ridiculous life has suddenly become. Then I stop myself, realizing that we are going in circles and I turn the other direction. We both stop, face to face, him at the end of the family room, me by the front door. I can hear the music from “The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly” playing in my head. Who is the quickest draw? But I wait for his next move. He starts to charge me! I figure in his mind he’s thinking, “I don’t think so biotch, I’ll take you down before I go in that kennel!” So I move out of the way and begin pursuit again. I finally catch him in the kitchen and he’s figured out a new tactic, when you are caught by the collar drop down and roll until you can bite your assailant. After having my hand in his mouth one too many times I let go, he jumps up and cowers on the other side of the kitchen. Luckily for me, dogs are stupid and I grabbed a treat and he happily followed me into the family room. There he sits and begins to go through his tricks, he tried to shake my hand but I told him that was not the deal for this little treat. I threw it in the kennel, he looked at me suspiciously and I pretended to be throwing out my Fig Newtons that he desecrated which involved walking into the kitchen. Once I’m in the kitchen George feels safe to go and retrieve his treat. I turn and run as quickly as I can into the family room. He hears me coming and starts to back out of the kennel but by then it’s too late, he’s 70% of the way inside the kennel and I’ve got him by his rear and am shoving him in. I close the kennel, lock it, and change for work. I was so upset about my fig newtons, but life has to go on. I had to be semi-professional for work. However, when I got to work I was flustered and unorganized, so I told my trainees that I had to chase a dog before work and they bore with me a little better. It’s strange, but I think I’m beginning to like the dog.