I'm a terrible blogger, I know. Sorry for being MIA.
I'm miserable. Absolutely miserable. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. I don't even know where to begin. It's not a collection of things, it's just one thing; one person.
Sunday afternoon, someone new moved into our house: my dad's best friend's 21 year old son, Alex. He came to the States a few months ago from Russia, but moved here because he's going to be living in America for a while, so my parents let him stay at our house till he can get his future figured out.
Except they never agreed to it. My mom especially wasn't keen on the idea, but of course neither of them could say no out of respect. I was hesitant to the idea, because who really wants some guy they've never met come live with them? Now that he's living with us though, I can't stand it. I literally dread coming home from school every day.
We are so different it's ridiculous. I'm a slob, he's a neat-freak. He did all our dishes yesterday, without being asked! What kind of guy does that? If I ever asked my older brother to do the dishes, I'm pretty sure he'd throw a plate at me. And then comes the issue of humor, and the fact that I don't think he even has a sense of humor. This is especially difficult for me, because the majority of my relationships with people are founded on humor. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO MAINTAIN A CONVERSATION WITH ABSOLUTELY NO SARCASM? I tried, but he didn't get it.
I know, I know. Those are lame reasons for not liking a person, but it is unbelievably difficult to get used to someone intruding into your way of life. My whole life, I have been surrounded by three other people: my mom, my grandma, and my little sister. My dad was always out on the road working (he's a truck driver), and my brother was always going out, so it was mostly "us girls". It's really difficult to adjust from being just girls in the home to a sudden male that isn't my brother nor my father.
And then I find out that he's not planning on leaving soon. A month or two I could still take, but Lord knows when he's leaving. We assumed eventually he'd head off to NYC, because there are a lot of Russian immigrants there (like my cousin) and he's guaranteed to find a job easily, but he doesn't want to. He wants to stay in our city, in our house, until he can get himself a job and enough money to rent a place of his own somewhere nearby.
Our city has a ridiculously high unemployment rate.
I guess this is how the child of a divorced parent feels when they find out they're remarrying. Absolute resentment. I don't even feel comfortable in my own house anymore (can you tell I don't adjust well to change?). I want things back to normal. I feel awful for being a whiny, snobby bitch, especially here on Blogger, but it's really the only thing that occupies my thoughts right now.
That tharr be mah future parrot, Rupert. Doesn't he look defiant? I'm trying to convince my mom that since I had to sacrifice my homely comfort for some random guy, she has to get me a pet.