My powers of perception

On Wednesday of this past week I’d finally had enough. Charles had been staying with us the better part of two months and while going through the motions of trying to get his life on track, I knew he wasn’t making an effort. Why do so when things are just provided without any of that pesky begging or asking.

Charles is both bi-polar and manic depressive. The depression is enough to rub off on anyone, inlcuding Keyron. I didn’t get it as much because I’m out of the house for at least 40+ hours a week. It’s effect on Keyron is to make him agitated and hard to get along with. So on Wednesday I’d had enough and told Charles to, and I quote myself here, “Get the fuck out!” He did, moving to a transitional housing for the disabled.

But each day since Charles has been at this house, taking up Keyron’s time. Yesterday I was most pissed as at 7PM I had dinner ready and he was still consuming Keyron’s time. Dinner was a miserable affair because I was going to tell Charles to fucking beat it.

So I told Keyron that Charles would be back today. I was so right. Around 1PM the doorbell rings and who is it? You guessed it, Charles.

I have to pick Charles up at 7:45 tomorrow morning for his first day on his new job at Brown University. I told him the way I roll is that he’ll be out there ready at 7:45AM and that if he isn’t I’ll wait a few minutes and then I’m gone.

Charles is someone for whom limits have to be set. And I have to be the one to set those limits.

The other thing that moved me to throw Charles out was this little habit of his. Instead of asking for something, like a ride to the supermarket he’ll wait until I’m comfortable, shoes off and reading my book to poke his head around the corner and announce “Before you get comfortable…”

Last night I knew that was going to happen so know what I did? I had three glasses of wine so guess what, you carried your ass here, you can carry it back. I’m not driving. A little preemptive first strike in my little passive-aggressive war.

I almost want him to take a shot at me, then I can file charges and start proceedings for a no contact order. Only then will this pain in the ass end.

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