The landlord stopped by today around one PM asking for the rent. I said, "Technically, I don't live here yet; I'm not going to be here full-time until September first." Sort of a lie, but I AM going to be out of town for a reasonable amount of time this month, and I'd sort of like to pay $35 less for the first month. I wrote the guy a check for $490 and told him it might not be covered for a day or two because I had to get the money from Norman. I really have no idea how much money is in my checking account right now, but it's CERTAINLY not $490. But what the fuck was I supposed to do? Say, "look, man, I know the rent is already five days late, but I don't have any money for you, have a nice day"?
So I wrote him the check and when Norman woke up, I said, "The landlord stopped by and I wrote him a check."
"Ohhhhhh," he said, giving me that "oh FUCK" look. "You shouldn't have done that! Why'd you do that?"
Um, because we OWE him? And I'd like to not piss the guy off too badly? And he seemed pretty tolerant, and I'd like to keep things that way?
"I don't have the money to give him my half of the rent yet! I was gonna write him a letter and say I can give it to him in a week or so..."
Oh fucking great.
"You don't HAVE it?"
"Not right NOW."
Great. Just great. Just fucking fantastic. I CAN cover this check, I really can, and we're not going to get evicted, supposing I make it to the bank tomorrow morning before my flight leaves for Seattle. I mean, everything's okay, this isn't a crisis. But you know what? I'm TERRIFIED that this is going to keep happening. I'm terrified that Norman's going to do just exactly what Peter and Jeff and Brandon and Jo did: sort of slack off on money-issues, just sort of relax, kick back, and rest assured that he's not going to get into any trouble, because he's living with somebody as anal-retentive about finances as sweet, consciencious Helena Thomas.
For the record, there's not a way in the world, no matter WHAT kind of job I get, that will allow me to live in a $490 apartment without somebody else paying half. Not a chance.
NOW what the hell am I supposed to do? I can cover the check for this month, but what happens when Norman only has half of his half NEXT month? What happens when he just doesn't care much about the rent and sort of hopes it'll magically come out of my pocket? WHY did I not see this coming? WHY did I believe that I could live with somebody who wouldn't do this to me? You'd think I'd have learned my lesson after the FOURTH time...
Peter bought groceries and gave me $100 towards the first month's rent, when we moved into the Ghetto Palace. Rent was $375 a month. That was it. Then he just "didn't have the money right now." He was out of work for a bit, and sat home looking at porn on my computer all day, swearing on everything sacred he'd been looking for a job. He begged for loans from friends. He took other friends out to dinner with those loans. He ran up $80 monthly phone bills. He "didn't have the money right now" to help assure we wouldn't get phone service turned off. I begged, I pleaded, I threatened, and all it got me was yelled at. I was suddenly a nag. A bitch. Whatever.
Jeff and Brandon gave me $60 when they moved in. I think they gave me $100 later on. FOUR people living in that apartment, should have made the rent just a little less than $100 per person. I had to pay $300 of the expenses that month. Peter "didn't have the money right now." Jeff and Brandon "didn't have the money right now." Jeff and Brandon ran up $40 phone bills, and a $300 cable bill, neither of which they paid.
Jo gave me $200. Once. She stayed with me for either two or three months, but never contributed to anything again. I'd buy soda for her sometimes on the way home from work, and she wouldn't even offer to reimburse me. She "didn't have the money right now."
What the FUCKING HELL?
And of COURSE, there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it, because none of us had signed any papers or anything. Jo and Jeff and Brandon weren't even on the lease. There was NOTHING I could do. I just had to work, get another job, work as many hours as they'd let me.
And now, who knows... Is it starting all over again? Sure as hell looks like it.
Norman, bustling about, gathering his clothes, instruments, sheet music, and money for his gig this afternoon, asked, "can I ask you for a favor?"
"Uh-huh."
"Do you have a couple of cigarettes I can bring to my gig? I'm out."
I had two cigarettes left, in their box on the coffee table. I pointed to them, nodded, and said, "take it." I didn't mean to sound so cold. But it would have been a hell of a task trying to be really nice about it.
"Helena?"
"Yeah?"
"Can I ask you for another favor? Do you have like, a dollar or so you can give me, so I can catch a cab?"
I dug through my jeans. Eighty cents. I COULD have scrounged up a dollar if I'd looked harder, but you know, by this point, I was feeling pretty damned used.
I will NOT live like this again. This is IT. I'm going to find some way of putting my foot down this time, so I don't end up with a 100% track record of insane housemates. I am going to nag, I am going to be a bitch, and once in awhile, I'm going to say NO, I'm NOT here to take care of you, and NO, my things are NOT your things, and NO, you may not drink my vodka, and YES, you will replace it, and YES you will pay your half of the damned rent, and YES you will do it on time, and YES you will pay whatever bills you ring up, and NO, I will not be treated like I'm Fort Knox and just aching to help out slackers. NO.
I'm NOT going to live like this.
As a matter of fact, I'm flying to Seattle tomorrow. Imagine! I finally get a vacation from my town and a few dozen people who are consistently on my case about giving them either money, or sex, or both. Freedom! Freedom from drama! Freedom from pulling myself and everybody ELSE up by the bootstraps! Freedom! Friends and trees and big tall buildings and coffee and cherry pie and rain and mountains... Loved ones. Douglas firs. Gahd bless, I never want to come back. I'm not even THERE yet and I never want to come back.
I don't think I will be updating this journal for the next ten days. Maybe I will, maybe I won't. Go ahead and check back, but right at this moment, I think I'm going to leave absolutely EVERYTHING behind, ignore all my obligations, whether I like fulfilling those obligations of not. I deserve freedom for the next ten days, and dammit, I'm going to give it to myself.
Wheeeeeeeee!
~Helena*
"...'cause that's what you do in a town where a yellow light still means slow down, not speed up." --Agent Dale B. Cooper