The Creature Log

Guess what???

Nothing has happened on the homefront. The list of requirements have basically been forgotten. Crisis is over, let's pretend everything's okay until the next one.

Last night the Creature announced that he's moving out in two weeks.

"Poor girl," we thought, preparing a mental checklist of advice for his girlfriend. Wrong. He's moving into a roommate situation in San Jose. Someone has foolishly agreed to let him pay his $600 rent at the end of each month. He says his job should be able to provide him with a similar position in San Jose. He has great plans about going to school there, becoming an EMT.

We're making bets on how long it'll last. Will his roommates get sick of him before he burns up all of his money?

Despite our sour outlook, we both are in favor of this for the usual assortment of reasons. Get him out of our house? Check. Move him toward independence? Check. Keep him happy? Check. Teach him something? Um, well, one can dream.

Okay, he's not officially in Americorps yet, but he's got preliminary approval.

Whatever.

Take him, take him, take him, take him, take him!

Haha, the kid's got someone new to barf worms into his mouth!

Americorps is taking him in January! He's going to Maryland to rebuild homes on the Gulf Coast. Ha ha, hard, underpaid outdooors work in the cold, far away from us! Yay! Maybe he'll even learn something, possibly even do good.

Four months. We can handle four months.

I accidentally posted this to the wrong wrong wrong LJ, but here it is again:


We've waiting for the other shoe to drop.  Here it is, so soon.

The kid doesn't have money for rent.  He says it's because he had some overdraft charges on his account.  Which, if true, also means that he never had the savings he said he'd been working.  He's just come back from spending three days playing tourist in Santa Cruz and Monterrey with his girlfriend.  He's also done literally nothing around the house in two weeks since we sat him down and told him his rent would be increasing if he didn't start contributing.  And his dad's out at Burning Man until later this week.  Yay.  So I told the kid that I'm mad, that he hasn't kept any of the agreements he made when he moved back in, that he's been acting pretty damn comfortable, and that I don't want to talk about it right now, and he should leave me alone and do some serious thinking about the situation and possible solutions.  I gave him my Really Serious face.  I hope I haven't fucked anything up.  I hope he doesn't do anything rash.  I hate to have June Cleavered this "until your father gets home." 

When he moved back in, the rules were that he contribute work to the household or his rent would go up, and that he always be able to pay rent on time, which is currently two hundred dollars a pay period.  He's been here two months.  His disposable income's five to six hundred dollars a month.  He has few real friends, no support system, and a girl he's been dating for a month.  He has a regular job, and in a month or so, he'll hear whether Americorps has accepted him.

Fuck.  I feel like nothing I do makes any difference.




Edit: David came home last night.  Guess we'll talk soon.

I feel edgy right now, like something important's missing, or like I've badly fucked something up.

I'm gonna hide out until perspective returns. Maybe I'll act gender-appropriate for once by cleaning something until I feel better.

....I wonder if that actually works?....