I'm So Screwed

I've been paying $340 a month for my own room in a convenient location. Just today I got evicted! And I have to be out by tomorrow 12 pm. My name was never on the lease, which I knew. So I won't point the finger there. I'm certainly responsible for staying in this situation. The last thing I want to hear about is how we all got screwed over because our name wasn't on the lease. Well, if he didn't sign anything, obviously our names aren't on the lease! What frustrates me is how this is all happened and played out.

My bathroom has no fan or window, so there's mold growing inside of it. I don't understand how my socially-retarded roommates can't fathom that idea. Well, we shower there and we're fine. No, we all used to sneeze until our bodies adapted every time we showered. Are we to expect that we're only allergic when we shower? Hmmm....thinking caps guys! The visibly growing black stench might also be an indicator, too. The property manager has seen the condition of the bathroom when he's inspected the clogged toilet and made no mention of it and completely disregarded its decaying condition. But now that he has to view the apartment as our lease is nearing expiration, he's starting to care. Convenient timing.

Today he said that the clogged toilet was caused by tampons. Before it was plastic shards, toilet paper, it keeps changing. Today the toilet wasn't even clogged. So why he would change the story up today is suspicious in it of itself. The property manager always knew that two girls were living here, so I think he decided that a tampon would conveniently target us and make it plausible for why he would want us to move out.

I overheard him talking about how we're filthy and never complained about the condition of the bathroom before. Crap! Oliver isn't the most aggressive person, but one phone call should be enough. Besides, the kind of idiot who doesn't bother installing some form of circulating in a humid environment doesn't care. And again, he's seen the condition of the bathroom before. It makes me so livid that he acts blameless. You know I have two adjacent windows that didn't have blinds or curtains put up! I waited a month, and that doesn't even include before I moved in. This is a man who doesn't give a fuck!

I'm pissed that he can't deal with the consequences of his negligence, and I'm getting evicted on such unreasonably short notice as a result. Pasadena has no virtually no tenants rights. The policies, not laws, are there, but they aren't legally enforced. They're basically just decorative. The manager is a lazy bastard, but he puts zero effort if the sheriff comes does all the dirty work. So I'm screwed. I'm so sick and tired of hearing from people that it won't happen because it's unreasonable. Unreasonable things never happen? I'm not risking that possibility! I'm just not!

What's even more infuriating is that my roommate, Oliver, was never planning on telling me any of this. He spoke particularly quietly about this to my roommate, Grace, and he deliberately went outside to talk on the phone because he didn't want me knowing about it except I heard him, and the other roommates had the decency to fill me in. I had to approach Oliver about it. How do you not tell someone that they have to leave? To keep such information away from someone is cruel! But most of all, I'm mad at myself.

I didn't realize it until now, but this is just like working at the salon. I didn't have the strength to leave because the deal was so sweet even though I knew I didn't belong there. It was too easy. It was the same thing here. I shouldn't be living in a mold-infested place, but the location is so convenient. So I stayed just like I stayed at the salon. I wasn't strong enough to leave, so the universe pushed the circumstance onto me and had me fired. Now I wouldn't leave this dump on my own, so the universe arranged it so that I would get evicted.

I'm new to this. Working at the salon or living where I live isn't what I would necessarily call "easy", but it's relatively easy compared to what I've dealt with in the past. It's the easiest I've ever had to deal with, but it's certainly not the path I should've taken. I was always strong when I had to be. Does that really make me a strong person then? If I'm granted the opportunity to indulge in weakness and I take it willingness, doesn't that make me weak? I guess I have to be strong to avoid circumstances like these. I never get a break.

Roommate Drama!

I swear drama and stupidity follows me everywhere I go! Ahhhh!!!!!!! I have four roommates, and it's actually not as bad as you would think and unpredictably worse than many people would suspect. My roommate is intellectually-challenged (to put it politely), which is primarily the source of my problem. He's also inconsistently dishonest and seriously disturbed. you know someone has problems when they steal stuff from other people as a set up. Just my luck, right?

When I sent him a not so nice email about not paying the electric and water bill, it ignited a confrontation that's been boiling inside of him for some time now. I guess he didn't like being schooled. Here's the email:
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Hi.

A final notice was sent to us that the electric and water bill is still due, stating that both the electricity and water bill will be shut off today without further notice! This means that the bill wasn't paid for three consecutive months because only then can a company legally shut down these services. We're very livid about the situation because it affects all of us. The food in the refrigerator and freezer will rot. That's money we're never going to see again. The bill is under your name, and, therefore, ONLY YOU'RE held accountable for the accumulating late fees. It's also your responsibility to tell all of us how much we owe and collect the money, or pay it in advance and collect the money afterwards. These are the only ways that the bill will be paid. After speaking to Grace, it's come to my attention that she hasn't paid her portion because you've neglected to tell her what it is. But that's no excuse for ignoring the bill for THREE MONTHS!
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Okay, so, it's not a nice email. But please tell me, how can you write a nice email to your fuck-up roommate? That's like politely bitch slapping someone. It's not possible! Grace agreed that it wasn't nice but that he deserved it. He had the audacity to ask her to pay for it because he gave some crap excuse that his credit card expired this month, but it was Grace who observed that he manages to successfully make amazon purchases. That's suspicious. Also, it shouldn't matter what is or isn't going on with his credit card this month if it was paid months ago when it was supposed to! He's a neglectful idiot who can't even come up with a convincing lie. I find it amusing that he's so intimidated and upset by my reaction, though. What did he honestly expect? My other roommate doesn't think it's a bad email and says that He brought it upon himself. He was also the one who specified what points should be addressed, too.

In retrospect, I was naive to assume that this arrangement can coexist peacefully. When I first moved into my apartment, I commented on how there was no furniture. I didn't whine about how I didn't want to get rid of my furniture or anything that could've led to coercion of my furniture finding a new home in the living room, which serves as his bedroom. I specified multiple times because I'm an excessive person that only and only if everyone agreed to taking in my furniture will it go into the living room. I have two witnesses (my other roommates Han and John) who were there multiple times when it was agreed upon. I indicated each and every piece I wanted transferred to the new apartment to a condescending degree because I personally like making lists. Plus, I had a visual aid of exactly what I wanted moved into the new apartment when my roommates viewed my furniture already set up in my old apartment. During the move some of my friends were there, too. (Johnny, Chris, BoBo, EriK, and Kheang).

Clearly he has regretted his decision to share some of the living room space with me, particularly when he got upset with me. But that doesn't justify stealing our other roommate, Han's, boxers and putting it on the TV, as though it were mine! Yes, he waved around our other roomate's boxers as one of the reasons why he wants me to move my stuff out of the living room because I'm leaving my crap lying around like it's my own room. WTF?

I kept telling him that I'm a girl. I don't wear boxers. It would have to be a guy's. Instead of deducing that it's Han's, he said it was my boyfriend's. WTF? I don't have a boyfriend. It's not any of my friends boxers, either. What is he thinking, that they come over, strip down, and leave their boxers on the TV? What an idiot! Then again, after talking to Han, he confidently said that he planted the boxers there. Apparently he does that. When Han asked what his boxers were doing there, he slightly touches him in the back and smiles saying that someone stole them and put it there. No shit! He did.

Such extreme measures to take because he regrets his decision. But that's what was agreed upon. Actions have consequences. I feel bad that he feels like his personal space is invaded, and I don't want to bother him, but, more importantly, I don't want to get rid of my furniture because he's being an idiot who lacks forethought. He told me to move my entertainment center into the dining room. When I told him that there's no space and will cover the window, he said that that's a trivial matter. That's how single-minded and unintelligent he is.

STUPID ALERT: He even said that he only agreed to the entertainment center, sofa, and TV, so I have to take the other crap out like my DVD player and DVDs. Why would my entertainment center come without that?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!?????????? He admitted that he didn't think it would come with all that. That's not my fault. It's a damn entertainment, plus I was even specific about it.

He kept saying that he didn't agree to this; he was being nice. But by being nice you made a decision. He argued vehemently that he didn't make a decision; he was being nice. Then he spewed that these things shouldn't be there because it's not a living room, it's his bedroom. So then I felt this sudden urge to educate him (as if it would do any good). Desperation is no excuse for neglecting accuracy. That living room serves as his bedroom, but it didn't magically stop being a living room. It's still a living room. He said that it's not a common space, so it's s not a living room. He said that the dining room is a common space, so the dining room is the living room. Move my stuff into the living room! WTF?

I know I'm stupid, too. I shouldn't have fought with someone so special ed, but I can't help it! I can't put my mind in the head of a retard, so it's a futile battle that I'll never win. I understand that people aren't always as comfortable being upfront as I am, but that's not my fault. If you can confidently and openly be so stupid, you should find the strength to be honest with yourself and the people around you. If you can't do that, at least learn to live with your mistakes and stop lashing out at others who can do what you desperately want to do but for whatever reason can't achieve.

The Most Intimidating and Beneficial Interview

I'm articulate and intelligent. But during interviews I come off agitated, tense, unperceptive, robotic, socially-challenged, and slow or extremely fast-paced to an inhuman degree. I can't understand it. I just get so nervous. So I come off sloppy, unintelligent, and incapable. I got a phone call for a retail interview for that same day to a local mall.

I left my home at 4:30 pm and barely made it on time for my 6 pm interview. I nearly got run over on the way to the bus stop. I got this killer pinched nerve that went down my left leg that left me unable to move properly. My leg was in so much pain. I was so stressed out because I was convinced that I was running late for essentially a bullshit interview because the chemistry was all off on the phone. I admitted that I didn't know anything about the company and was told that it wouldn't be held against me. That was a joke, and it was articulated because I immediately panicked about it. I was certain that nothing would come of this interview. So I was wasting my time trying to make an already failed interview with all these interferences. I was developing painful stress hungers, too. I began panic texting my friend.

To my surprise, I just barely made it on time. I didn't have time to ease my appetite, though. I was asked to share stuff about me that can't be found on my resume. That totally freaked me out because I usually prepare, prepare, prepare, and MEMORIZE! It's the only way to reduce the stuttering. I didn't plan for this. I started blabbing all nervously and panicky until I blurted out that I have a purple couch. I thought, "Stupid!" But apparently I hit jackpot, baby! Who knew?

I'm usually so used to being prepared, aware, or failing. I rarely explore and find success on cue like that. It was sadly a little scary for me, but it was awesome. The guy was really cool during the interview. It made me realize the value of spontaneity. I read that people who plan everything manage stress more poorly because the brain doesn't have enough practice adapting. So the best thing to do is introduce unexpected or unplanned events. It seems insignificant, but this was kind of big for me. That's a little sad and honest.

I'm So Over It - Discretion

Being someone I'm not isn't only unnatural, but it completely backfired on me. And why wouldn't it? Co-existence doesn't work if they're opposing forces. I'm not the sweet girl that everyone gets along with and is well-liked, but at least I'm authentic. For most of my life, being who I am has been a struggle and a position I've constantly had to defend because it wasn't the "approved" character for a young girl to have. I've finally reached a point in my life where who I am is accepted and advantageous. So the last thing I should be fucking doing is compromising who I am and portraying a false version of myself. That's what I began doing, and that was the beginning of my downward spiral.

I took a job as a receptionist for a hair salon. As someone who has bad judgment, I fell in love with that place. But once I knew the hidden, ugly, raw truth, I should'vd left that place without ever looking back. Instead I not only stayed, but I developed a chameleon personality as a way to maintain the environment I was exposed to because there was no way that I could've existed outside of my natural element by being who I am. I didn't know I had the ability to do that.

I'm not sure why I did it. It almost felt instinctual and involuntary like I was programmed to behave that way. Actually, I think I do know why I did it. Being who I am came so naturally for me, but it was also such a chore and a futile battle. I struggled with virtually anything and everything that can turn into a conflict. I became tired of always fighting everything I deserved and defending every choice I made. I wanted a break, I needed a break to demonstrate that I can't afford to give up. For some people life is easier. I'm not one of them. If I'm to live my life to the fullest, I have to accept and embrace all of who I am especially the bad. I can't do that if I'm being someone I'm not, which is exactly what I did at the salon.

I was sweet, quiet, reserved, distanced, separated, tolerant, submissive, and the most life-changing of all - a pushover, which is the furthest from who I am. I take crap for nobody! But it was different at the salon. I took crap, and I made it easy for people to give me crap. I practically wore a bull's eye and played a willing victim. When a stylist started bitching because I booked something incorrectly based on how I was trained (not my own fuck up which did happen too), I couldn't tell her to shove her attitude up her ass or re-direct it to the person who trained me incorrectly because it's not my fault I take orders properly and tell her that she's a single-minded, self-centered bitch who's too busy bitching to realize that I scheduled something very specifically because I was instructed to do so, not because I randomly chose it that way! So if it was really important to her that I do things her way that she tell the trainer how I shouldn't do things and show me more fucking respect, so I would have more of an incentive to obey her. She's so fucking stupid. What she wants to achieve isn't going to happen through her behavior.

Obviously that kind of back talk would have gotten me fired, which wouldn't have been so awful. But I guess everything happens for a reason. I took crap from stylists when I didn't deserve it, and I never called them on it, which goes against everything I stand for. I truly believe that you train and condition the people around you. So if you don't want certain behaviors to become a habit, you have to tell them. How else will idiots who think it's okay to act that way are going to know that it isn't? You certainly can't rely on their intellectual assessment to come to that conclusion because then they wouldn't fuck up in the first place.

It's one thing to get bitched at for my mistakes. But it's an entirely different thing when I get bitched at for scheduling a client at the end of the day when she's supposed to be working because she didn't feel like waiting for three hours for her last client to show up. And how the fuck would I know that? As if that wasn't bad enough, she bitched about it FOREVER and totally overused the word, fuck. When I wasn't in the back where I was in a position to hear her bitch, she went to the front to ensure that I would hear her. What a petty immature dumb ass! Every time she went to the bathroom, she would intentionally over-use three towels. So I would have to do more work because she failed to tell me what she wanted. I basically got bitched at for doing my job and enabling her to do hers and ensure that she be compensated for it. How fucked is that?

I got crap and attitude for not wearing a skirt, while the other receptionist wore jeans that were torn and unflattered her flabby ass with a zip-up jacket most people wear when they go jogging. I would argue that my boss was a pervert, and as much as I would like to demonize him, he's just an idiot with an unfair standard imposed on me. Then again, I made it way too easy for him to attack me. Working with idiots enforces an increase in tolerance and a safe distance from their stupidity. What if it's contagious? I showed up 30 minutes early for work usually. So when I arrived on time, my boss had this attitude like I was late because he perceived me as being on time for work only when I was early. Is it my fault that you conditioned yourself to not read time when I'm on shift?

My boss would take money out of the cash drawer without telling me, and I'd panic because I'm short $100. Of course, the only reason why I panicked is because I did my job and counted the money regularly like I was supposed to. I also made the mistake of ignoring the training manual - if the cash drawer is short, G probably took it. He'd also let other people who I've never met go into the cash drawer. How am I supposed to know what's going on? He thought I was being fucked up because he's entitled to that money. Just because I want the cash drawer balanced doesn't mean that I'm censoring him from his money. It's called awareness, accuracy, and communication. I wasn't being a pushy control freak about it, either, which is how I usually am. He's just that special ed. There's just so much more crap that I don't even want to get into. Just trust that it was awful!

When the economy dropped, I asked if my job was secure. I wasn't only lied to when my boss was forced to answer my question, but he even went out of his way to tell me multiple times that he didn't want me to quit and that he considered me a valuable employee, if I got another offer to talk to him first and we'll work something out, and oh yeah, please don't quit. That's a lot of build-up to spit out for someone you ultimately fire! I was hired because the salon manager was leaving. When she regretted her decision and wanted her old job back, that's when I got axed. It's like I had to pay for the consequences of her mistakes and regrets.

I've never wanted anyone in my entire life to receive their karmic consequences more than my asshole former boss and the hidden bitch. G should've never lied to me, but M went along with it. He would've never gone for it without her consent and participation. I hate how she acted all sweet and as though she didn't screw me over. She's the sweet looking one that no one expects this from. I feel like everyone gave my boss crap because it's easy to hate him, while M's likable, but she played a role in this, too. I was told to be conscientious that she's not my friend. So even though she screwed me over that I shouldn't get too upset because she didn't owe me any loyalty. It's not like we were friends. G wasn't my friend, either.

It's true about M, but you don't have to be a friend to be a considerate or good person. I hate the situation it puts me in. I didn't know whether to be livid with her for her blatant inconsideration or deduce that she's an absent-minded, incapable adult who doesn't understand the value of employment because she's a twenty seven year old woman still living with her parents who has no idea what it means to be independent, self-sufficient, and responsible for her own well-being. I hate the mentality it puts me in because it insinuates that you can't be considerate or aware unless you live on your own, and that's insulting. It also creates this superiority complex in my mind. I hate that!

My hours were first cut with the argument that I was making too many errors, which freaked me out during the two seconds I thought it was true! I was told by one of the few stylists whom I actually trust and respect that it was bullshit. It's only because M wants her old job back. Then, G comes in right before closing with the excuse that he wanted to "clean up." I should've been suspicious. He asked to get on the computer, which is how he was able to process my final paycheck. It's like, "Okay, let me help you fire me." WTF!?!?!?! He said, "The other reason why I'm here is because I've decided to let you go. I like you, but it's not a good fit." You like me? Thank God that asshole has no idea the kind of person I am because when a jackass like that says something to you like that, it makes you want to undergo a personality makeover!

The crazy thing is that I could've totally "professionally" bitched him out, and it would've totally been within my right. Anyone who knows me outside of the salon knows I can do it, too. But for some reason, I didn't, which was nuts because I no longer had anything to gain by pretending to be someone else in theory. As it turns out, the next day G calls to tell me that my last two paychecks bounced! What the fuck? So not only did I get unfairly axed because we all know how it really went down, but my paychecks bounced, too?!?!?! Good thing I didn't bitch him out.

I thought I wouldn't want to talk to anyone for a week, but I woke up in a surprisingly not a bad mood. It felt like I cried everything out, and I was experiencing depression "hangover" but in a healthy way. It almost felt like it happened to someone else and ages ago, but that didn't last. This is around the time I became a lot more intuitive, so I started getting this weird feeling before my first phone call from G. I should've known...

I talked to him more once I got fired than when I was working there. He practically went stalker mode, monitoring my every move. I couldn't get to the bank without getting checked up on. Goffered to drop it off my house or at my bank, letting me know that I didn't have to go to the salon. He basically wanted to tell me that I wasn't welcome at the salon without telling me. I didn't want to be there when I was paid to be there. Why would I show up voluntarily? I'm glad that life is over. That paycheck fiasco was such a nightmare.

Then I had an issue with citibank, which I'm not going to bother to get into because I'm tired of typing. I basically had to call my friend, Johnny, who works at citibank for assistance, but I went to voicemail. So my friend, Jeff, who works at Bank of America was the one who was able to help me because that's the bank the salon banks with. How sad is that? I also got into it with Johnny, and it was just this huge thing.

Actually I'm the sad one. I shouldn't have been there long enough to get dicked like that. It was just so easy to stay - free salon services, flexible hours (name one office job that's flexible to a student's schedule?), nearby grocery stores, a fridge I can store groceries in, convenient location, nearby my bank, good pay, and generous overtime. It sounds good, right? Plus playing the tolerant role made tolerating my living situation easier, too. It maintained an unhealthy but easier lifestyle. I finally saw the appeal of submission, but it's not who I am. I appreciate that a lot more now, too. You know what else? I lost 20 fucking pounds because I never had time to eat lunch because it was always so busy! I'm way too thin to be thinning. It worked out for the best.

I don't know why I was hesitant about writing about this crap job. It must be mindless residual consideration that was floating around in the back of my mind associated to the salon because that's where it was born (mindless consideration). I don't owe that place any loyalty. G and M spent a suspicious amount of time before I got axed, too. Why should I care? I'll write whatever I want when I want to. Just because they were shady with me shouldn't mean that I should reciprocate, but I'm not being fucked up. I'm telling a side that G and M prefer stay hidden because they're ashamed of their behavior and deep down now they were fucked up about. That's not my problem, and they should feel bad. But I'm over it. (I think even M's sister who I love knows how wrong it was because I saw her, and I could just sense of compassion and misplaced guilt. It's not on her, though).

My Old Life Returns

I feel like my old life has returned to pester me. I woke up with excruciating eye allergies. My eyes are crusted shut and raw red. I’m still reeling from my ocular migraine. The weather’s been bright and cheery, but I haven’t been since I’ve lost my pair of sunglasses. I guess ocular migraines are my punishment for my carelessness. Eventually I’ll have to buy a pair with money I don’t have. I also have a giant pimple by my nose that’s giving me a double vision headache attack. I can see it. It’s not only annoying, but it’s giving me a headache because it’s messing with my eyesight. I don’t try to look at it, but my vision is strained from doing just that. Wearing these crappy eyeglasses isn’t helping, either. By crappy, I mean that four times this year my lens fell out of my frame. I’ve had this pair of glasses for four years, so they’re meant to retire. But I’m financially devastated at the moment and clumsy to boot! No matter, though, my glasses can handle only so much fall outs before they completely become useless. I considered getting a pair of prescription eyeglasses that darken and become sunglasses in the sun, but they’re definitely out of my financial range. Using both sunglasses and eyeglasses are still a more affordable choice. Then again, what if I fall and injure myself without corrected vision? The cost of healthcare for someone without insurance would be outrageous. I could always get contact lenses if I’m splurging money I don’t have. Then, I wouldn’t see this obnoxious pimple, and, therefore, I wouldn’t get a headache from it. Of course, I can’t afford contacts and my allergies are killing me. So contacts would be out of the question, anyways, until I can treat my allergies, which also cost money. Fucking $200 to fill my eye allergy prescription! This doesn’t even cover the cost of antibiotic eye drops. Infections are such a bitch. I can either wait it out or spend more money. I’m truly unsure which one is the wiser of choice. Also, recently my legs have become dangerously dehydrated. Dehydrated skin is very different from dry skin. Dry skin lacks moisture; dehydrated skin has moisture, but the body, for whatever reason, isn’t using it. I’m scratching myself like crazy. Inflammations have developed, and I’m getting ingrown hair from it. Ingrown hair really hurts! Then I have what I suspect are actually rashes, which I’m guessing is from allergies. Ugh! My skin is so dehydrated that my moisturizer gets absorbed within 30 seconds and returns to its dehydrated white flaky state as though I did absolutely nothing. As painful as it is, I have to exfoliate my skin to remove the dead skin buildup. That means rubbing against inflammation and rashes. I had to buy a tub of $22 body cream, which works beautifully, but I’m still tapping out of cash. I also bought jojoba oil which retains the natural oils and moisture your skin already possesses. This is soothing except I have very little moisture in the first place. So, I showered and exfoliated my skin, tolerated the sting, knowing that it’s for the best. Then after I lightly wiped myself off, I applied jojoba oil all over in the bathroom that’s still humid and moist from the hot water that was running. This may sound like a good thing except that I don’t have a fucking fan, and it’s also a breeding ground from mold. The paint is starting to peel off, everything in the bathroom smells of mildew, and my friends continually become sick when they visit me. Once the jojoba oil was absorbed into my body, I ran away from my bathroom, which can quite possibly hospitalize me. I went to my room and applied my luscious body cream. I finally felt at ease or about as much as I can be, still frustrated that none of my weekend plans worked out as intended. I transferred money so that I can begin to make purchases such as eyeglasses, sunglasses, and the works. I have to call my physician and ask him to fill out a federal application that would allow me to receive free allergy medication. But what’s a girl to do in the meantime? I found some reasonably priced contact lenses online, but I’m hesitant to purchase them because mail seems to mysteriously go missing in my apartment. I can’t think of too many people I can ask to have it delivered to their place instead. All these friends, and I can’t go to any of them. It depresses and guilts me. I’m guilty because I don’t like the idea of seeing them as conveniences. To be fair, I don’t see them as a convenience. That’s not much better, though, is it? The one friend I’m thinking of may quite possibly be avoiding me, although I’m probably just being a paranoid bitch. The lines become blurred as my affection and interest for him grows and evolves beyond the realms of garden variety friends. I wish he would recognize that. Having a relationship without the label is difficult for me. This must be why I’ve never done it before. Why did I start now? Couldn’t I have fallen for someone who wasn’t so damaged? But would I really have it any other way? How did this become about him? I’m putting more focus on him than he deserves. I wonder how much focus and priority he gives me. With that note, I’m out!