Because I live in the Kind of House That Drives a Girl to Argue Over Vitamins and Hide Razors, That Doesn’t Make Me Seem More Crazy at All….Right?

     I recently had to move back into my family’s house to help with financial issues and though it isn’t as bad as some of my previous experiences (one roommate circling the house in her car afraid to come in because another roommate half her size “was going to stab her…”). I am still at that one year mark where I am starting to lose my shit on a daily basis, both figuratively and literally…I am seriously becoming frustrated about the magical logic that seems to apply under our candy coated roof. Actually, if the roof WAS candy-coated, I might be a little more inclined to bitch less….but probably not. I say candy coated because, while my aunt was previously, married she rented her house to a family that must have thought this was Miami because they painted every room a different bright ass color that makes the house nearly impossible to relax in. I am a very picky hoarder… in other words an artist! So in accordance to making my “pieces” (also known as crap) seem less cluttered I like a neutral house. It also aids my constant need to redecorate. But I Digress.

     The first nail biter that has come to make me twitch is the passive aggressive attack on my accessories.  My aunt refuses to borrow my jewelry because it is in my room and that would be an invasion of privacy.So instead she just assesses everything I wear, giving me a constantly growing list of all the things she wants, “in case I get tired of them.” And I am forced to repeat the same phrase, that “I’m not getting rid of this, but you are free to borrow it any time” and she does her typical reply of smiling sweetly and changing the subject. I thought this weird as it became a habitual occurrence in our weekly routine until I confronted her about it and told her that I didn’t mind her going in my room. But I figured respecting my privacy was better than completely disregarding it, so I let sleeping dogs lie.

However, the real problems began to occur a few weeks ago. I spent an exorbitant amount on gummy vitamins, because A: they are fucking delicious and I could eat them like candy! B: I am a child who hates vitamins and this is the only way I can regularly commit to “vitamin responsibility” and an incentive to take the rest of my supplements. And C: My fucking hair is falling out everywhere since I went blonde and I cant get an appt with the right hair stylist…

So here I am enjoying my daily dose of strawberry heaven AND being healthy, feeling like I just mastered a cheat code for health and then I notice… These things are disappearing awfully fast… And only one other person lives in the house… But I brush it off. Until a week later half a bottle is just gone! GONE!!! My gummy vitamins… I know this is dramatic, but this should shed some light on how broke I truly am…  ANYWHO, I calmly ask my aunt if she had been eating my vitamins and she innocently replies “I thought they were mine?!”….

“Really?,” I reply in my head but also with a thinly veiled facial expression of annoyance, “Because they fucking come in a small green bottle and yours taste like rubber stamps in a giant orange brick!” I think this is the point when I realized that I clearly need more sleep and also may have developed and unhealthy vitamin addiction. I gruffly replaced my empty vitamin bottle spot with her shit vitamins, that admittedly are probably better for me and have less sugar, but still.

Two days later, my vitamin B12 disappeared and I swear my whole face turned red. Partially because you shouldn’t discover that you are out of the one thing that can get you through the night is missing five minutes before you begin a ten hour overnight shift. “YOU ATE ALL MY B VITAMINS!” Innocently again there is just a look from the couch as I stand in the kitchen doorway…

“I was going to buy more tomorrow…” she replies.

“Well that doesn’t help me now, does it? I wish you would tell me if you use the last of my stuff…” And then I storm off like the child that I am when exhausted meets angry.

But the real nail on the coffin is the multiple times I keep finding my razor has gone missing. More than a couple times now I have caught her using my razor and each time asked her not to, and it continues. Finally I exploded. “How the hell is eating my vitamins and not replacing them, and using my razor, sharing my blood not count as an invasion of my privacy when you won’t even borrow a necklace? A necklace you can just put back, those razors are expensive!” I will admit I didn’t pay for them, but I am trying to spread them out so I don’t have to buy more, so the point still stands. And to this I get the cleverest of remarks… “Your jewelry is in your room…”

“YOU. ARE. INFURIATING!!!! Stop using my razor!!!!”

Laughter. “But I don’t have any razors…”

“I DON’T CARE” I shout from the back of the house as I search for a box to hide all my shit in…

This is life after college folks. This is what your advisers are trying to prevent when they tell you you need to make a plan…


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