So, I’ve been posting up a bitch storm, which has led me to a place of calm. No quarrels at work and the quarrel at home should be packing it’s bag and leaving on Friday.

I figure the positives to take away from the clueless house guest are two-fold. One, my boyo is sweet and has put me first. And second, he must have some kind of pheremone surrounding him that attracts nerds who ot
herwise would be friendless. But, he has a ton of cool normal friends, too, so maybe he’s just a friendly guy.

I finally did take assertive bitch action, of which I am not proud.

My rationalization is I was tired, it was around midnight, and the constant commenting had worn down my last nerve. Yes, we should have had a can opener for your crappy Dinty Moore stew, but since you’ve been bragging on your intrepid world-traveling skills, I would have thought opening cans would be in your repetoire of survival. Did you really have to stand over me as I searched for my Swiss Army knife (especially as I was in my bedroom not a public area)?

Location and handing over my knife (which I had already said was a souvenir from the Grand Canyon not a proper tool) was met with more comments, specifically on its inadequacy and minimal improvement over what he already
had.

I replied, "The words you are looking for are ‘Thank You,’" and walked away as he mumbled something I didn’t hear, because I had already shut the bedroom door.

It was both liberating and anxiety producing. So what if he and I never become friends, right? Or he thinks me on par with Eva Braun?

Still and all, if someone’s a guest in my house, I really do strive to be vaguely gracious.