Monday, December 10, 2007

my weekend in the house of hell

So this weekend I decided to do a good deed. A close friend is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Just to give you an idea, here are a few of the stressors in his life:

- a wife who's got a "disease" (sorry, I can't help myself because it's one of those diseases only recognized by crazy people), is addicted to Demerol, and hasn't worked a day in seven years because she's too sick to get out of bed. She doesn't do anything. Really.
- a small child <1 year old which the aforementioned wife does little to help raise
- a brother who's addicted to various narcotic substances and is currently in jail for a litany of charges that are too disturbing to explain
- parents who've decided they want nothing to do with said brother, one of whom is an alcoholic and insists on driving drunk--while the other has decided it's not worth trying to stop her
- 2 large dogs (one 70 pounds and one 95 pounds) and 2 cats, one of whom is losing his fur from stress himself. Wife does little to take care of them either.
- a massive mortgage carried on one crappy salary
There's more but you get the picture.

I decided to be a good friend and tell him and his wife to get out of the house and away for the weekend. Yes, the wife is one of the biggest stressors, but I couldn't really get her out of the equation without being an ass, so this would just have to do. Here's how the weekend went for me:

Sat, 4pm: arrival. Cats and one dog are restless. Second dog (my little buddy) is so thrilled to see me he will not remove head from my knee. Child is amusing self with paper envelope.

4:30pm: Doing once-around of house. Terrified. The place reeks, the kitchen table has disappeared under mound of random junk, the kitchen counter is completely covered with dirty dishes (while the dishwasher sits empty), the sink is full of brown, standing water, and the fridge contains things that move. There is dinner for me in the stove and I am terrified of heating it up within that den of grime. The bathroom makes me gag. Wondering how human life can be sustained here. Briefly consider hiring cleaning person to come in for day as Christmas present, but realize that he or she would need to come for a week or two to even put a dent in this. Insanity.

5:00pm: Child and I are playing mind-numbing game. I make shapes pop out of game, she pushes them back in. I make more shapes pop out, she pushes them back in. She does not tire of this. May lose my mind.

5:30pm: To distract child from I.Q. sucking game, have now retrieved toilet paper roll from garbage and am balancing it on nose. Child appears to believe this is funniest thing ever. Belly laughter. Note to self that must come over and do this whenever self esteem is low.

6:00pm: Pack up child in Baby Bjorn. Child appears to be teething and unhappy. Am now covered in drool. Leave house to take dogs on walk. 95 pound-dog tries several times to tear my arm off. 70 pound-dog takes pity on me and gives her crap. Passersby find scene highly amusing.

6:30pm: Exhausted from 1/2 hour walk. Feed dogs and cats. Dogs gorge themselves and one cat munches disdainfully. Other cat refuses to eat. I take pity and huge chunks of fur come off in my hand. Cat is clearly very ill. Feed child. Thankfully, child appears to love food. No games are necessary, nor is much wiping. Joyous moments.

7:00pm: Place child in play area. Smaller dog approaches and pukes next to leg. Briefly consider not cleaning up puke since with house in this state, friends may never notice. Then dog begins to eat own puke so I retrieve cleaning implements. Strangely, they are not hard to find.

7:30pm: Back to playing mind-numbing shapes pop-out game. Contemplate whether my repetitive role in said game may cause carpal tunnel syndrome. This could lead to "disease" where could lie in bed doing nothing for years. Interesting option.

8:00pm: Child poops, changing child. Child apparently prefers to be naked. Changing proves to be more difficult than 108 piece swirls puzzle I tackled the night before. Stressed-out cat hisses at dogs. Dogs are frightened by apparition of furless, crazed cat and start barking. So much barking. Kill me.

8:30pm: Give child bottle, put child in bed. Much fussing.

9:00pm: Dinner, movie, snacks. Cat on lap, dog's head on knee. Send text messages to ensure sanity is intact.

11pm: Dogs restless. Strap on baby monitor and take dogs out to pitch black, creepy backyard. Neighbour decides to open back door while am outside and I practically crap my pants. Find amusement in fact that I am supposed responsible adult in this situation.

11:30pm: Alcohol. Needed some.

12:00am: Read some of book, drink tea. Cat back on lap, dog's head back on knee.

1:00am: Hit the sack. Concerned about level of cleanliness of sheets, so am wearing lots of clothes. Ick.

2:00am: Wake up. Eyes on fire. Run to bathroom and see in mirror that eyes are blood red and bags under eyes have swelled to give appearance of ogre. Eager to scratch eyeballs out. Would scream but am afraid to wake child. Dirtiest house in the world has caused massive allergic reaction (I know it is not animals as I have been tested and came up negative). Rummaging through bathroom drawers, looking for allergy meds. Panicking as it is late and cannot pack up child to drive to 24 hour pharmacy.

2:15am: Text any friend who may be awake at this time of night, hoping one will be bored, sober and take pity. One calls immediately and offers to deliver Benadryl. Fantastic, life-saving friend who I will cherish until the day I die.

2:30am: Thank friend profusely, tell several stories about evening, go back to bed.

3:00am-6:00am: Restless night. Little sleep. Bitterness level very high.

6:00am: Child screaming. Eyes have improved but still want to die. Need to get out of house of hell. Pack up child and dogs and head out for long walk.

6:30am: @^%$ cold. Cannot feel butt. Must go back to house and find warmer clothing. Am afraid to wear clothing as it too cannot be clean, but must preserve warmth to remain alive.

Wow, huh?

When my friends returned in the afternoon, I pretended all was well, as any good friend would do. They had a nice little weekend while I struggled to stay alive in their house of hell. Good deeds truly don't pay.


1 comment:

Emory said...

This house has obviously been built upon an Indian burial ground.

*whispers 'get out, get out'*

"When my friends returned in the afternoon, I pretended all was well, as any good friend would do.".... UR! yeah, that's what I would do alright. Just pretend that the noises coming from the basement had nothing to do with the gates of hell swinging back and forth, and are disconnected from their current misfortune(s)

I am just thankful that you were not pulled into the TV!

E<-- pulls out Rosary beads, and works them like a senior citizen, at a nickle slot machine.