It’s not even funny anymore.
Dustin just hangs around the house all day, masturbating on Grindr, peeking out the windows, fighting with other housemates, and sneaking out the door to take loads all night.
He started rambling about how the police used to circle the raves and the events, fucking with everybody telepathically.
“Bitch. I have a job and you either need to sleep or go be high somewhere else.”
I think he wandered down to the couch and fell out until about 2:00 this afternoon.
There was a house meeting today. He blew up at another resident and started screaming his head off in front of one of the program staff.
Not my circus.
Not my monkeys.
I was ready to butter up the popcorn because this shit right here is better than Telemundo.
I’m too damn busy working to go look at places right now and I don’t have any PTO left to take the day off for that sort of thing.
I’m just cultivating a careful facade of normalcy now.It’s time to grow the fuck up and deal with my shit on my own time.
Dustin’s overcompensating for his behavior over the last 24 hours. He’s all like “I’ll make you pasta!” “Hey, I’m going to put your bed together!”
I’ve been through a lot this year and I need tons of undisturbed sleep and I need some fucking peace and quiet around wherever I call home right now.
I shared about it at a meeting and someone gave me his number.
Nacuntie was being her usual shitty and sabotaging self: “Girl you need to be careful that people aren’t just using you for sex.”
One: Disagree there’s an agenda.
Two: How about, let’s not flatter myself?
Three: If I’m wrong? Oh no.
Crawling into bed with some cute gay dude.
No! Please!Anything but that! /sarcasm
