For Granted

The other day, a roommate of mine asked me about what the words "for granted" meant. Breaking it down into it's most basic components and said, "It means to behave as if a certain situation is a given and will always continue to be without changing."

Let me tell you, the change is here.
It started with this: 

A roll of toilet paper. What was so special about this? Well, a couple of weeks ago, Polli came by for a few days. During that time, Rickey came by to tell me that he had family coming by. I said that things needed to be cleaned. This process was sped up significantly and so we cleaned furiously (which means I did most of it) for a while to get the downstairs in order. Later, we found out the fam wasn't coming. That's fine. We needed to clean anyway. I will reference this bit later, though.

So hours later, Polli comes to me and asks for toilet paper. I do a quick mental inventory; I should have four  rolls of toilet paper as that was how many there were a couple of days ago when I last checked. I needed to visit the store and get some soon, but we were okay for the time being.

Rather, should have been.
"I don't see any..."

I suppose he didn't see any of the four rolls that were clearly in the closet, so I got up to help him look. They should be right here on the bottom shelf... Wait... Where is my toilet paper? Are you serious right now? My mental processes went into hyperdrive and here's what came out:

• I bought 24 rolls of toilet paper. 
• I've used six for myself. That means there should be 18.
• There are five people in the house.
• There are four other people using the toilet paper.
• There are four people that would have known sooner than I did that we were out of paper.
• There are four people that used the last of the toilet paper and did not think to tell me.
• None of these people want to/are in a position to replace this toilet paper.
• There were people that might have been here -- nine of them (Rickey has a large family and all of them were coming here and four of them are girls) -- that would have had no toilet paper because no one thought to just go, "Hey, could you get some toilet paper? We're out."
• These thoughtless fucks are going down. DFS mode: Activate.

That's been that since then. I'm still mad about it. What's funny is that it's coming to light now. People are going to be mad as fuck because I bought a new 12-pack of paper. I lend the toilet paper roll out and then I ask for it back immediately after use if I lend it at all. Randy asked the other day. Phillip asked today. When I asked for it back, he made a snide comment, "So are we going to have to ask you for toilet paper now?" to which I replied, "Nah. You could always go to the store and buy it if you want." and snapped the picture above.

It's not just this, but that was the last straw for me. I'm tired of doing for people that don't give a fuck at all right now. I might get back to the whole "being unconditionally, overflowing kind" thing, but right now, people need to realize that kindness is not something to be taken for granted. I can redirect that energy to other ends and I will. I let the laundry detergent run out. Paper towels are coming in short order. In the meantime, I'm stacking things in my room because I refuse to have either myself or my guests run out of toilet paper because people want to be thoughtless.

On the same vein, yesterday, I spent five hours cleaning. The first thing on that list was my bathroom. Phillip saw me cleaning downstairs a day or two after christmas and asked if he could help. I told him to clean the bathroom. Just the bathroom. We have three. I wanted him to clean the one upstairs since we use that bathroom and I cleaned it the last time.

"Fair enough. Okay then."

I cleaned the bathroom yesterday. Yesterday. If you're keeping count, that's a week and some change. Almost two. I can't think of one discernible reason for him not to have taken an hour to clean the bathroom. It only took one. I thought about this as I cleaned the sink and toilet and tub. I thought about how many times The same messes has been walked by as I swept the stairs. I marvelled as I looked at the stairs and thought, "These stairs look practically new from sweeping... This is bullshit...." I continued into the kitchen. Phillip woke up and asked if he could help.

"I remember the last time you asked me that..."

"Ah yeah, the bathroom. I forgot about that. Sorry."

"You know what, it's fine. I got this..."

He took the kitty litter box out, then he swept up a few things. I want to note this so that it doesn't seem like he didn't try to make amends. I'm sure he did. I just don't care about that one act in the face of the other 200 before that. I did thank him. I continued to clean and clean and vacuum. I became angry with every passing moment. I wanted to move out. I thought about my lease. I thought about the toilet paper. I thought about it all and was like, "I'm cleaning because I want this house clean and I really want to blow up right now, but what the fuck? Seriously: what the fuck? You are a grown-ass man. I'm not even asking you to wash all the dishes, just wash your dishes when you fucking finish using them? Is that really hard? I mean, you're already in the kitchen at the sink when you leave the dishes in the sink, so just turn the water on. Seriously...

まった-fuckin-く

So when this whole thing starts playing out and I start being a bitch about things, you'll get all the journal entries on it because I'm about to piss everyone off in here and I don't care.