Today I moved house, and did not commit murder. Day's not quite over yet, however, so we'll see how it turns out. I'm sunburnt, covered in bruises and utterly exhausted. I knew my housemate would be a hindrance, not a help, but he managed to surpass my expectations. None of his stuff has been boxed up and sorted. He was supposed to clean out his chest freezer; I ended up having to do that. All his food is going to the tip now. When I went and woke him up and told him that the removalists were twenty minutes away, the first thing he did was... put a load of laundry in the washing machine. Jesus fuck. I yelled at him and he was shocked. He couldn't see why it would be a problem. In the end, his contribution has been to transport four eskies, and open up the new unit for the removalists. He has not done anything else, because he has a stomach ache. Not even unpack the kitchen or pantry boxes. At one point, while my friend was helping me get the kitchen packed, he decided to sit down and have a natter over the phone with his cousin. He looked even more shocked when I yelled at him to get off the phone and do something. He kept talking and when he finished, he suddenly developed a crippling stomach ache, couldn't do anything after that. How convenient.
I've been living with the man for two years, and I still haven't been able to figure out whether it's weaponised incompetence on his part, or just flat out incompetence.
On the way over to the new place with my rats and a car full of shit, he asked me to go by Hungry Jack's and get him some food. He ordered three different drinks, and when I turned the corner, they fell out of the tray so now my car carpet is soaked in soft drink and fucking bursties.
After the removalists left, I went to Hungry Jack's to sit in the air con and have a frozen Coke. Saw a pretty spectacular deathfat and her scooty puff. Will write her up in the deathfat sightings thread. Wish I could have taken a photo because she was definitely something. Unfortunately she would have seen me doing it.
I'm currently at the new place, waiting for my feet to stop aching and for a spark of energy to get up and move. I have to go back to the old place tonight for my tools and clothes. What won't fit in my car will have to wait until tomorrow. I have to be there early to let the cleaners in.
The lease in the new place is for twelve months. I think, after that, it'll be time for housemate and I to part ways. He's easy going, pays the bills on time, but he can't / won't take care of himself and keeps getting me to do all this shit for him. I can't keep doing this. I also need to Marie Kondo my life, I have way too much shit and I can't keep dragging it around.
I just want to have a shower and sleep.
EDIT: it's now one am and I can't sleep, I'm so fucking exhausted, I have to be up in five hours and I can't sleep. And my feet are killing me. And only one of my rats will talk to me, the others are in their igloo and they utterly refuse to come out. Told the housemate that I was officially done helping him. I'm not even going to take his shit to the dump. I'm leaving all his crap right where it is at the old place, and if he leaves it there and we don't get our bond money back because of it, he is going to pay me back my part of the bond. He's had months to sort all this shit out and when I reminded him that it needed to be done, he was always too sick, too tired, or he was sore. He was genuinely shocked to discover that it wasn't magically taken care of while he napped. It's raining now, he's watching tv, and I wonder if he even remembers that he's got his computer chair and air con just sitting in the middle of the yard, getting soaked. Oh well, it's officially not my problem.
![:\](/styles/custom/emotes/svg/chris-confused.svg "Confused :\")
