Red Shoulder Hawk

Red Shoulder Hawk

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Throw up your hands

I feel great today.

I'm fascinated that George seems able to build goodwill among neighbors, but not among housemates. I felt pretty low last week, during the time George was preparing to leave. He broadcast so much negative energy as he was packing! "I've moved more times than anyone I know," he said. Now that he's gone, I can feel life beginning to flow back into me. Nicholas is already starting to improve. Xena and Clare are both finding things to laugh about.

I'm sure we were driving George crazy, too. I'm really glad one of us had the wisdom to end the relationship. It confused him, though. He's pretty sure that we could work "all this" out. What I eventually came to realize is that things only "worked out" when they were exactly what he wanted. How many times in the last few months have I listened to him re-open a conversation, merely because the agreement wasn't to his complete benefit?

"Hey Bob, how're you doin'?"

"I'm having a good day, thank you."

"Yeah, well, listen, I think the common spaces ought to be available for every one's use."

"George, we talked about this at the house meeting. We've got a household agreement about it."

"Well, yeah, but I really think Clare's passive aggressiveness towards me is really uncool."

She's passive aggressive? I think to myself. George, you're the one who was banging drums outside her door at bedtime! The tragic part of that is that poor George has no rhythm. He might hear music, the rest of us hear noise. "George, do you want to talk about this at the next house meeting?"

"Bob, I feel like you're not listening to me. I want to be able to use the common space."

"You can. But you have to respect the other house members while you do so. That's what we all agreed on. If you want to put it back on the agenda, so we can all discuss it, then go right ahead."

"You know, Bob, it really sucks the way you're treating me."

On the one hand, I sort of admire the doggedness, the persistence, of pushing until you get your way. On the other hand, when your way is unharmonious to the collective, it's pretty darn selfish.

Oh, there is so much I'd like to write. I fear exposing myself to a lawsuit if I did. Seriously, the number of lawsuits George is involved in or has been involved in is astonishing to me. I can report, though, that upon moving out he took the lightbulbs from the rooms he was in, he took the switchplate, he took the roll of toilet paper from the water closet, he took the little knurled knob from the drinking water purifier. It's about the size of a nose stud! He certainly did buy it, many months ago. It's his. I don't think we re-imbursed him for it. But what the heck is he going to do with that little knob?

We've all been doing little dances in his empty room. Except for Caitlan. She thinks we're all nuts.

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