“They Never Shoulda Gave You N****** Money!” [Journal 7-26-17]

CloZee – Koto.

Son of a b****, I’m tired. Two days after the discussion with the landlord and the two lunatics, I got a job. I was hired on as a prep cook, in a kitchen that has at least five guys on the line at any given time. For those unfamiliar: that means the job is brutal. On the third day after the discussion, I started the job, at fulltime. Due to someone needing time off unexpectedly, I ended up working seven days straight that first week – then got two days off before another five days on. The transition, from mostly sitting around for a year, has been painful; I’m losing weight.

My upper back has been hurting so much that I’ve often been heady from endorphins, and I’ve woken up in the middle of the night from pain. Thankfully, I remain relatively virile, so the rest of the job – including constantly moving like fire, always being on my feet, hauling weight, learning everything, and ingratiating myself with the community – haven’t been so bad. Even my cutting hand stopped cramping after a few days, and my cooking callous reestablished itself without serious problems – cutting massive amounts of ingredients at speed puts a serious callous on the index finger.

I have a hefty backlog of journal entries that I didn’t post due to caution: I feared the nutjobs might be mad haxxors; I didn’t want them knowing what was going on, as they might maneuver accordingly. I doubt they actually were, but better safe than sorry. Better they remain in the dark, thinking I’m always in my room, than be aware that I’m out of the house most of the time – they might decide to fuck with my stuff, or sabotage the house and try to pin it on me.

It would also be bad for them to know that Landlord and I were secretly collaborating to maneuver around them. Landlord figured out that they’re dirtbags, whom invented problems simply to fuck with me. I didn’t clearly elaborate on everything I thought was going on, given that few people are willing to look into the dark side of humanity – which those shitheels embody. So I let him figure it out before being a bit more revealing.

I’ve also moved out, just today, and am currently at my new place. The price is about the same, I have a little more space, and there are more bathrooms. My new Landlordess lives here, and seems to have some form of hyperactivity condition. But I genuinely don’t mind, as she seems to have a good head on her shoulders, and is a good person. The kitchen is smaller, but I don’t think that will matter much – especially given that I eat at work five days a week now. Landlordess is also clean. Oh how I love cleanly people. Though I’ve only known her a short time, I really like her so far.

The maximum amount of tenants seems to be seven – all counted – but Landlordess may prefer two-to-three rooms open at any given time. In either case, Landlordess is selective with her tenants, and seems to stay ontop of them, so I doubt I’ll have any more troubles with druggies, drunks, and general burnouts and losers. With the combination of the job and the new place, it seems life may be letting up on me. Unexpected.

More amusingly, all the complaints which Sociopath and Stoner had with me, are about to become far worse for them. To summarize their complaints: they wanted to act like children, I expected them to act like adults – which they agreed to do, in specific detail, upon move-in. So, basically, they wanted to be dirty, make noise, smoke weed indoors, constantly have people over while blasting a TV in the living room, etc. But, again, things are about to get far worse for them.

Landlord is moving in. Again: he knows they’re dirtbags – though I doubt he fully comprehends the extent – and wants to get them in order. No more acting like children. The funniest part is: I never actually harassed them, treated them unfairly, etc; I basically just ignored most of their behavior, and made concessions – despite the fact that they constantly defaulted on their word – to make things work. Now they’re gonna tiptoe their asses off, especially given that they revealed their ugly natures in persecuting me. I’m amused.

Anyway, more on everything later, and possibly some more linking/site clean-up, and the backlog will be posted. I’m fucking tired. Oh right, haven’t been feeling depressed. But then, I’ve been super fucking busy/tired/in pain; not much time to dwell. Still, it seems basically over: when I’m not busy, I feel great.

Now I just need some pussy attached to a functioning brain. Fuck though, the way my life runs, the bitch will die on me in some ridiculous accident. That’s me, always looking on the bright side. Of delicious. Nutritious. Pussy.


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~ by Louis Naughtic on July 27, 2017.

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