“Open the Windows Wide. I Don’t Want to Be Safe Tonight.”
We signed a lease on Monday for a two-story townhouse that we’ll be moving into next Saturday. We had planned to move in the middle of May, but if you signed a 12-month lease before March 31st, you got $125 off on the monthly rent. Which is a lot of money. Plus, this will apparently make things less stressful for my dad and his wife. Part of the reason is because his wife is stubborn and not very good at compromising and likes to pout when things don’t go exactly her way, and my dad is sickeningly non-confrontational in that he won’t ask me (or anyone else) anything if he thinks I might feel even the slightest bit inconvenienced (and if I do, and it’s obvious, he gets mad at me for it—”That’s why I didn’t even want to ask!”). But on the other hand, it would be nice if, when you’re trying to sell a house, a rather messy, busy person like me isn’t living there at the same time with her cat.
This whole moving thing is irritating. They keep moving my stuff—they threw out some Walmart bags I had around without asking me first, and when I needed them, they weren’t there—and it’s really irritating, so I tried to mention it to my dad really nicely the other night, asking if they could please try to check before throwing stuff away or moving it or whatever, more importantly the major things, but he got angry rather quickly and started interrupting me, and I had to push to actually say what I needed to say.
Not living with my family has been really good for my health, physically and emotionally. My family members are rather overcritical and inordinately self-centered, on some level, making it very stressful to live with them. They’re difficult to reason with because they always think they’re right. I’m the same way sometimes, I’ll admit. But looking at the situation objectively, at least since going to college, I’m historically better at reasoning and compromising, and I’m better at accepting the short end of the stick when necessary, actually doing something that inconveniences me or that I don’t want to do. (It’s different when your plans are fairly arbitrary anyway and you change the parts that don’t matter.) I’m better at controlling my temper, in general, and much more patient. I could not have said this a few years ago; I was just as bad, if not worse. But where I’ve improved, my family hasn’t. I’m glad I live alone, that is, not with my family, and I’m incredibly fortunate to be able to.
But my dad bought me a bike after signing the lease, the one he “I.O.U’ed” me for Christmas. It’s sweet—has a rack on the back from which you can hang these collapsible baskets that I’ve been eying. (Per my dad’s suggestion, I’m going to order them when I finish packing up my room, as an incentive.) I was going to ride it to work this morning, but it’s pretty dark in the 5 o’clock hour [of the morning], and I managed to wake up too late to bike anyway.
(Don’t misunderstand me: I love my dad. I love my family. I’m incredibly grateful to my dad for all he does for me, which is a lot, more than I probably deserve. He’s a wonderful father. He’s just awfully hard to get along with sometimes.)
And in short, things with R. continue to get yet better. Thank Mark Zuckerberg for Facebook—I feel like I talk to him more when he’s at home than when he’s here. Not that I like him being far away or anything, but I really like the increase in correspondence. My heart has been in a rather swollen state lately. This boy is my favorite.
(Entry title from the song “House” by Vienna Teng)