Last night John had the door to his room open and was letting the cats go in and out of it while hanging in the living room with everyone. Ordinarily, I wouldn't care. It turns out, he had the door to his room allllmost closed so I couldn't see that he had a lit candle unattended in there. I've talked to him about this before, he KNOWS this bothers me. Our cats are EXTREMELY unintelligent and there have been times when we've had candles lit in the living room and we had to lunge forward to keep them from waving their tails directly over it. They also can play very hard and knock things over all the time. Between these two things, I think it's pretty obvious that the cats CAN not be left near an unattended candle without serious risk of hurting them or starting a fire. Anyways, I mention that it seems he's letting the cats in with a candle lit and how does he react? He storms from the room and slams the door like a spoiled little brat. In front of guests three feet from his bedroom door. The worst part is that near as I can tell from his reaction is that he didn't even think I knew about it since he pulled his door so close (I could see the reflection on the paint on his door), so apparently, he thinks I'm full of shit and there's no problem doing this and it's perfectly okay as long as he's not CAUGHT at it. This is super great, because it means now I can never leave the house when there's a chance he might be at home alone with the cats. If he thinks it's safe, there's no reason he won't do this again and again when he thinks "mommy" won't catch him at it. And it would be irresponsible for me to leave then, since it's like leaving a toddler with razor blades laying around the house. Therefore, I can NEVER leave the house again. Okay, probably exxagerating, but you see what I mean.
Martin's been spending money higgledly piggledy the last week and I assumed since he's an adult, in fact 12 years older than me, that he was being responsible and could afford it. Turns out he can't afford the rent this month. He's going to have to borrow 20 dollars from me just to make rent and I only have like 30 right now. But of course, he ALSO forgot that today is ice day. Which means if he doesn't find an ADDITIONAL 30, and I can't help with both rent AND ice, then he's going to have to let our dead cat thaw. This will be traumatic to say the least. I'm going to have to convince Mr. Responsible to take out money from one of those loanshark pay-day advance people, or else he's going to have to choose between basically killing the cat all over again or not paying the rent on time, which would doom us to staying in this disgusting pit of an apartment for at least 6 years till the landlord forgets it enough for us to get a good reference again. And staying in these apartments for more than the year on the lease scares the living fuck out of me because I'm expecting the big one anytime now and these are OLD crappy apartments, we are pretty much guaranteed to all be crushed to death if it hits while we're still living here. This would also hurt MY credit if he fucks up the rent and gets it in late because I'm on the lease. Not to mention we don't have enough money now to feed the cat outside, so Tommy could end up nearly starving this week.
So unless I can convince him to take money out of his NEXT check (which will leave him broker than normal the next two weeks and that much more likely to not pay back the 55 he ALREADY owes me, which I need to get my car registered or I can't drive it anymore, and will therefore depress me FURTHER since I'll never get out of the house...) then we either fuck ourselves into this apartment for years and years or else we have to get rid of the frozen cat, which will depress the fuck out of the BOTH of us. All because Mr. Responsisble is too stupid to handle his money well.
And you guys all keep asking why we're not married. Would YOU want this guys financial capabilities tied to your credit rating??
Anyways, that's why I'm pissed and I think I'm perfectly in my right. I won't even get into all the packs of cigarettes being smoked in this tiny little apartment, making it hard for me to breath and increasing the risk of my pets dying of cancer. And that's what Bit died of in the first place, BTW, cancer of the mouth from washing herself all the time, in a house full of toxic mold and cigarette smoke. I still don't know who to blame her death on, Kami or Martin, but it sure as hell wasn't her time and I'm still grieving her, especially with her being a corpsicle in the other room. Sorry, now I'm just rambling. I guess the plum wine isn't helping the anger management much, yet.