Now, it's official, no one can ever claim that I am unfair/ jump to conclusions. Even when I want to just:
Even when the other party deserves it, "no 'bout a doubt it"...I don't.
From my prior blogs-you may know that post eviction, I moved in(rather moved some of my things) in with my mother.
I was going to move myself in, but I figured that is a process..
a process to be staved off as long as possible.
I just don't think my mother and I are quite ready to see each other everyday.
I think it's more of a gradual process, for safety reasons.
Though I love her ,with all I have, she's been known to be dangerous...
Also, I had other living options, that were much closer to my job, so I exercised them.
One of these options was my "not so significant other",who is becoming less and less significant by the day...
So, I decided to stay with him, for the nights that I had work (on the couch....ahem).
In any event- Day 4, after I clean the fridge.
Wait, that was an understatement: lets re-begin
The morning after I "deloused the fridge" (adding yet another point to my "I am a martyr, on par with Mother Theresa and 'em" score board)
I decide to put his stuff in a drawer (as his clothing was on the floor-the drawers, where they belonged, looked pretty empty).
As someone who makes it a habit to not look for "ish I don't like", lest I find it,.I was "very unhappy" to find a pair of big girl panties that I wasn't looking for-especially since they were very cheap, extremely used, not cute and at at XL, not my size.
My face "lookeded like" this:
Of course, being the diplomatic stalwart that I am, I assumed my "not so significant other" liked to wear women's undergarments. Of all things, this is something I can accept. SO...
I decided to call him (while he was on his way to work) and let him know, that I knew his secret-and could accept it.
However, the conversation did not quite go the way I thought .
He actually told me not to touch his big girl's drawer's; as if I would/ could contemplate doing so without gloves (which he doesn't have) in his house...Dirtbag!
Then he said, "I may explain later, if I feel like it..."
So I was like:
"Clearly, that talk (if it happens) has to occur, in private, so the neighbors won't hear you scream when I kill you. You are out of order..."
Then I thought:
I have a rabbit and two turtles who depend on me, I am not going to jail for you. You aren't close to being hardly worth it...that's why you live in your grandmothers basement and wear women's underwear, acting like some
girl left it there-GTFOHWTBS!
Whatever, because he and I ARE going to Puerto Rico next week, he IS cooking me dinner everyday this week (after his long work day) , and I am still NOT going to sleep with him...until Jesus reclaims the earth..
And that's how it's suppose to be, I treat them right until they "get wrong" -then I TURN on them like the chicago wind...
Til next time,
-Gentrifried
Even when the other party deserves it, "no 'bout a doubt it"...I don't.
From my prior blogs-you may know that post eviction, I moved in(rather moved some of my things) in with my mother.
I was going to move myself in, but I figured that is a process..
a process to be staved off as long as possible.
I just don't think my mother and I are quite ready to see each other everyday.
I think it's more of a gradual process, for safety reasons.
Though I love her ,with all I have, she's been known to be dangerous...
Also, I had other living options, that were much closer to my job, so I exercised them.
One of these options was my "not so significant other",who is becoming less and less significant by the day...
So, I decided to stay with him, for the nights that I had work (on the couch....ahem).
In any event- Day 4, after I clean the fridge.
Wait, that was an understatement: lets re-begin
The morning after I "deloused the fridge" (adding yet another point to my "I am a martyr, on par with Mother Theresa and 'em" score board)
I decide to put his stuff in a drawer (as his clothing was on the floor-the drawers, where they belonged, looked pretty empty).
As someone who makes it a habit to not look for "ish I don't like", lest I find it,.I was "very unhappy" to find a pair of big girl panties that I wasn't looking for-especially since they were very cheap, extremely used, not cute and at at XL, not my size.
My face "lookeded like" this:
Of course, being the diplomatic stalwart that I am, I assumed my "not so significant other" liked to wear women's undergarments. Of all things, this is something I can accept. SO...
I decided to call him (while he was on his way to work) and let him know, that I knew his secret-and could accept it.
However, the conversation did not quite go the way I thought .
He actually told me not to touch his big girl's drawer's; as if I would/ could contemplate doing so without gloves (which he doesn't have) in his house...Dirtbag!
Then he said, "I may explain later, if I feel like it..."
So I was like:
"Clearly, that talk (if it happens) has to occur, in private, so the neighbors won't hear you scream when I kill you. You are out of order..."Then I thought:
I have a rabbit and two turtles who depend on me, I am not going to jail for you. You aren't close to being hardly worth it...that's why you live in your grandmothers basement and wear women's underwear, acting like some
girl left it there-GTFOHWTBS!Whatever, because he and I ARE going to Puerto Rico next week, he IS cooking me dinner everyday this week (after his long work day) , and I am still NOT going to sleep with him...until Jesus reclaims the earth..
And that's how it's suppose to be, I treat them right until they "get wrong" -then I TURN on them like the chicago wind...
Til next time,
-Gentrifried
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