The checklist of awesomeness:
* Got the house to myself for the daytime hours for both days of the weekend.
* Got to tan, read, watch Tivo and movies, chow, try new beer flavors, be in skimpy clothes, make phone calls, nap, and masturbate at will during these alone hours for TWO DAYS.
*Cleaned my room (kinda), got online (finally – its been turned off for 3 weeks and the company site, as we know, won't let me on some of my faves that I hope to link if I have time), shaved, tweezed, masked, conditioned, moisturized, and was overall in my space as a woman.
*I was TOLD to clean my room by T because an appraiser was coming on Monday. I had a totally adolescent response of "I was GUNNA, but now that you TOLD ME TO, I don't WANNA!" and fumed my way through throwing everything in sight behind a closed closet door.
*I reminded of how ok it is to live in a house with 3 roomies by T as she came home Saturday. This was 4 hours, to the minute, before I couldn't take her and her lametard yelling at each other anymore (I gave it 10 minutes) and decided to get dressed and take a walk. At 9:30pm. I returned to find them gone but the ex-roomie drinking from the bottle I bought. T came back with food that she and lametard ordered and offered for me to share. This meant I got to hear the whole fight over again AND the ex-roomie's argue-fest with her beau. Just what I came home for, I assure you. ::snear::
*Talking on the phone in the backyard gives a sense of security that can let me talk freely… and somehow even outside there is a noise barrier from the front to backyards that will let someone drive up into the driveway and walk all the way up to the fence right in front of the chair I happened to be tanning on that day that lets the rant about how lametard has a point in razzing T on her behavior with him. To get up 30 minutes later to find lametard and T in the kitchen staring me down was NOT a happy ending to my lay in the sun.
*Another half naked event: I am on the phone to grandpa doing the good girl check-in and really enjoying myself when T comes out and says, after seeing I am on the phone, "can you vacuum when you clean your room? AND the stairs? My stuff is already off my floor." I said nothing, as I was on the phone. I'm sure she figured the red in my face was from the sun and not her.
How to resolve weekends like this:
Get calls that remind you that people care about you.
Have an outsider tell you that these people actually LOVE you, can't BREATHE without you, LONG to have you in their lives, and only rarely have the gumption to express it that way (did I about get it right Monty?)
Reach out and make contact – no matter who they are, they deserve a call back.
Remember that sometimes living with the 'owner' of the house means you have to suck it up and realize that a month of half assed cleaning will get noticed.
Prioritize life and decide that moving would eat your savings account just before a birthday weekend and THAT is unacceptable.
Find time to just sit and look at the blue sky, or talk to an old friend who was in a life threatening accident and will be on pain killers until he dies – it really puts into perspective how mild some frustrations can be.
Stay sober. I'm not usually an advocate of this, but I realized yesterday I just stayed too busy to pour a drink and by the end of the day the world wasn’t out to get me, it was just how it is around me.
Oh, and masturbate a lot. Keeps the body loose, the mind looser, and the simple grin on your face that makes ANY frustration bearable.