I'm at my wit's end here. I'll explain, but first a bit of background on the current situation.
So as some of you may know I'm living in a sober living environment for the mentally ill, one run by the slumlord who used to run my previous apartments until they simply foreclosed without him doing a damn thing. Since the last time I've ranted about this situation, things have improved drastically. For example, my stress level is generally down since I'm out of college, so I've decided to help out around here a lot, since I feel these people who can't even take care of themselves half the time need me. This isn't just some more unwarranted self-importance, the staff here now realize that I am one of their best residents. I cook, I clean, I do five times as many chores around here than anyone else, and I pick up after myself. On top of that, I'm always helping the residents with simple things, like cutting up some fruit for them, or more likely helping them with their technology problems. I have just won the (useless) "Resident of the Week" award, and the main person who works here says I'm basically the best of the best when it comes to the residents here.
People are even starting to like me, and open up to me. Enemies have become friends indeed, though there is still one major problem. That problem is, that people are still EATING MY GODDAMNED FOOD EVEN THOUGH I LABEL IT AND IT'S COMMON KNOWLEDGE THAT IT'S MY FUCKING FOOD.
I already know who's doing it. The few reliable people here have told me that the culprits are three of the women here - an eighty-year-old cranky old bitch named Jean, a tone deaf and functionally retarded woman who feels it's appropriate to wear a slip and hair-curlers outside of her room named Gayle, and a schizophrenic mess-making sociopath named Sherry. However, all evidence points to Jean and Gayle, since even though Sherry lies constantly, even the staff believe that she couldn't have been the one to steal my stuff.
What they'll do, basically, are things like eat three-quarters of my peanut butter, or drink over half a quart of milk and throw the rest out, even use some of my previously untouched margarine and leave crumbs and other things that don't belong in butter in my butter. I'm at my wit's end, because even with the staff intervening and mentioning it, and with me labeling fucking everything in letters big enough for anyone to see, these cunts still take my stuff.
And it pisses me off, and stresses me out beyond all belief. My eczema, a monitor for my stress level, has gotten out of control, and I'm suffering from headaches and muscle aches from not being able to sleep properly due to this stress. My anger has gotten to the point where most of the jokes I make now involve suggesting sadistic punishments for the residents who happen to be completely incompetent (all of them), ranging from replacing the coffee with decaf, to starving them when they do take my food. And when I find out that something else has been stolen, I go into an incoherent rage and can't even think or speak straight.
I just put a sign on the cupboard I am assigned to, and I half expect that bitch Gayle or that cunt Jean to tear it down and steal more of my food. I don't have much money as it is, so what I buy I cannot share a single bit of. Getting a fridge for myself is not an option, due to money issues. Neither is putting locks on stuff, nor is moving. And confronting them doesn't work, because they lie constantly, because they lack moral fiber, intelligence, and competence.
I'm literally living with animals here. These people who keep on stealing my stuff are subhuman. I keep on having thoughts about going up to the ones that are stealing my stuff, and scaring the hell out of them, by screaming at them, and perhaps doing very illegal things to them that aren't in my nature to do. One example I don't like very much is raping Gayle's eyesockets, then gutting her like a fish and bleeding her out like the sow she is. I don't like having these thoughts, but unfortunately when I get this angry and am at my wit's end, I cannot help but think like someone from b0g or gurochan.
Luckily I'm a pacifist and I am capable of showing a great deal of restraint, but that's not the fucking point. Just as luckily, the head supervisor, Michelle, says she'll look out for me and my stuff, because we are apparently very "buddy buddy". Unfortunately, there is very little of anything she can do save replace my stuff and get alternatives for those rabid mongolioid freaks to eat, as well as bring it up at the weekly meetings.
Unfortunately, these people who are stealing my stuff are functionally retarded. They lack the cohesion and comprehension skills to even think about not acting like an illiterate fuckwad. They aren't actually retards, but as I've been saying lately, by Seth they sure fucking act like it.
I don't know how much more I can take of this nonsense. I'm about ready to confront these bitches, and if I do that, chances are it's not going to go well. One of the rules here is that you cannot get into arguments like that with another resident, because it makes for a very uncomfortable environment. Well, if this doesn't stop soon, I'm going to make this very uncomfortable for them. Prison uncomfortable. They will prepare their anus and they will enjoy it. Metaphorically speaking, that is.
...
I just needed to get this rant out there. I literally am at my wit's end, and I don't like being this angry. I'm really hoping that something is done to make it stop, though if it doesn't I AM going to bring it up with the housing manager, and even call emergency meetings if I can to get this shit to stop. Personally though, when it was happening before I didn't take it so seriously, or at least I didn't fly off the handle. Perhaps me having *five* chores and cooking for twelve or more people three days a week really is starting to stress me out to the point of no return. The only reason I have five chores, perhaps soon six, is because these people are so incompetent and incoherent that they can't even clean up their own messes half the time.
There are notable exceptions, but the real problems are, as I mentioned, three of the women here who happen to lie, cheat, and steal constantly. I'm just tired of it, that's all. I don't like being this angry, and I don't like being this stressed.
...
Any advice outside of the lines of getting a personal fridge, locks, or moving would be appreciated. I also cannot confront them, because they will deny everything, and I'm not allowed to torture the residents. Oh no, I have to be good and kind and fluffy...
Fuck that >.>
But yeah, advice would be appreciated.
No comments:
Post a Comment