All the things
So, my apartment had a humidity problem. The apartment manager didn't know how to do anything for me. I think I ended up getting her fired...
Months went by. Green stuff started growing on my oven mitts, my change purse... eventually the outsides of my kitchen cabinets, my vents....
I had an upper respiratory infection.
I rented a dehumidifier. As soon as I brought it back the humidity was unrelenting, again.
I bought a smaller dehumidifier.
I was seeing Graham this whole time, and one night I freaked out about it, having discovered my upper respiratory infection, and he told me to take Rosie and to come to his apartment. I told him that I didn't think he knew what he was getting himself into, since at this point there was no solution even on the horizon. He said he knew what he was getting himself into and insisted I come.
So I did.
That was July 14th.
Finally, the manager's boss FINALLY got told about it, when I happened to visit the office when she was there, and she got all the plans to move forward talked out and planned out. They would assess the air conditioning unit, basically redo it, have to rebuild the ceiling where the did it, they would clean the vents and the cabinets and take a mold test. They said the mold test would take 2-3 weeks.
They got the work done by, probably, the second week of August.
I am still waiting on the mold test. I told them I wouldn't move back in until the results were in.
Boy, I sure had no idea the timing of dating someone would be so absolutely essential to this ridiculous situation.
This was too fast for Graham as far as relationship-progression is concerned, and he still says that very occasionally, but I think he isn't going to know what to do with himself once I go back to my own apartment.
I didn't used to cook because cooking for myself always seemed totally pointless. Now I cook every night that I don't close at work. (Or that he doesn't have a nighttime rehearsal.) I had a maid come once when he went out of town as a surprise. We tend to be generally neater as people when we live with others just out of courtesy. The sex is still spectacular. It all just fell into place really easily. And he is just fucking like me. He likes antique and vintage things. We go to estate sales and antique stores and vintage consignment stores and stuff. He collects some random things, loves church architecture, has an antique book collection that is even better than mine, and the list goes one.
He has some drawbacks. He has some anxiety issues, but that's not the drawback. I try to help with that as much as I can, but he has a drinking problem when he tries to self-medicate. But he wouldn't have a drinking problem if he could handle his alcohol like I can. I can be almost throwing-up, passing-out drunk at this point and walk in a straight line and not slur my words. I can be throwing-up, passing-out drunk and I still generally make the decisions I would make as if I were sober. Like the time this really super hot dude wanted to hook up with me and I wouldn't because I hadn't showered that morning, my apartment was too messy, and he lived too far away (even though he offered to drive me to his place and then back to mine.) And I still flat-out refused. I later threw up AND passed out that night. And they didn't realize I was as drunk as I was until I threw up.
His drunk is exceptionally apparent very, very quickly. His motor skills go really quickly. He slurs his words. And he speaks and behaves really erratically. Like, he won't finish thoughts and sentences. He'll just say "Nevermind." over and over. He's been arrested for public intoxication twice in the past year. The first one was expunged and his second one is on its way to being expunged. Gotta love being a tall, blue-eyed, white dude.
I give him all my recommendations on supplements. Tea. Essential oils. I give him massages. I tell him to free-write, but he wont. He once went to the emergency room with a panic attack, thinking he was having a heart attack. He keeps saying he's going to make an appointment with his doctor but he wont.
Apparently, when he gets as drunk as he gets, (its hard to talk to him about some of this because he's embarrassed by it, so I'm not totally clear on all the details.) he doesn't FEEL as drunk as I think that I feel when I am too drunk. What I mean by that.... its like, his motor functions go, he slurs his speech, he becomes erratic... but he doesn't get the spins. He doesn't get dizzy, he doesn't throw up. He passes out sometimes. He passes out and becomes incontinent sometimes. But he's never complained of a hangover...
I think there is something fundamentally different about how his body actually processes alcohol compared with mine. He says that he gets that drunk because it feels good. He likes it. I just don't get it. At that point, I get the spins and it is MISERABLE. I HATE IT! But it feels good for him up to and including the point of passing out? What the fuck...?
It's definitely a problem, though. I'm doing everything I can to help, but its clearly not enough.
I like him. He is ridiculously and exceptionally talented. He is the organist for the largest episcopal congregation in the country. People respect him, he is gregarious and socializes easily with strangers, so he is ridiculously popular... if you can really say that in a real-world context. People want to associate themselves with him. We are ridiculously similiar in so many ways. Sometimes we'll talk about certain things about ourselves, and the other will say, "We're like the same person." We're both scorpios.
But some of the ways that we're similar, I'd just sort of wish to have found a partner that was different. Its not a deal breaker. There are red flags. The same red flags that exist in me, though. They're not huge. We're functional human beings with some baggage. I transcended my mental illnesses. I keep feeling like since I did, I should be able to guide someone else in doing the same. He appreciates my efforts and we work well together. I cook and he does the dishes. We moved too fast, but he says he likes having me here. He says there is something just comforting about me.
Its still obviously unfolding. Its in an interesting place. Its already comfortable.
As Rachel Maddow would say - Watch this space.
Months went by. Green stuff started growing on my oven mitts, my change purse... eventually the outsides of my kitchen cabinets, my vents....
I had an upper respiratory infection.
I rented a dehumidifier. As soon as I brought it back the humidity was unrelenting, again.
I bought a smaller dehumidifier.
I was seeing Graham this whole time, and one night I freaked out about it, having discovered my upper respiratory infection, and he told me to take Rosie and to come to his apartment. I told him that I didn't think he knew what he was getting himself into, since at this point there was no solution even on the horizon. He said he knew what he was getting himself into and insisted I come.
So I did.
That was July 14th.
Finally, the manager's boss FINALLY got told about it, when I happened to visit the office when she was there, and she got all the plans to move forward talked out and planned out. They would assess the air conditioning unit, basically redo it, have to rebuild the ceiling where the did it, they would clean the vents and the cabinets and take a mold test. They said the mold test would take 2-3 weeks.
They got the work done by, probably, the second week of August.
I am still waiting on the mold test. I told them I wouldn't move back in until the results were in.
Boy, I sure had no idea the timing of dating someone would be so absolutely essential to this ridiculous situation.
This was too fast for Graham as far as relationship-progression is concerned, and he still says that very occasionally, but I think he isn't going to know what to do with himself once I go back to my own apartment.
I didn't used to cook because cooking for myself always seemed totally pointless. Now I cook every night that I don't close at work. (Or that he doesn't have a nighttime rehearsal.) I had a maid come once when he went out of town as a surprise. We tend to be generally neater as people when we live with others just out of courtesy. The sex is still spectacular. It all just fell into place really easily. And he is just fucking like me. He likes antique and vintage things. We go to estate sales and antique stores and vintage consignment stores and stuff. He collects some random things, loves church architecture, has an antique book collection that is even better than mine, and the list goes one.
He has some drawbacks. He has some anxiety issues, but that's not the drawback. I try to help with that as much as I can, but he has a drinking problem when he tries to self-medicate. But he wouldn't have a drinking problem if he could handle his alcohol like I can. I can be almost throwing-up, passing-out drunk at this point and walk in a straight line and not slur my words. I can be throwing-up, passing-out drunk and I still generally make the decisions I would make as if I were sober. Like the time this really super hot dude wanted to hook up with me and I wouldn't because I hadn't showered that morning, my apartment was too messy, and he lived too far away (even though he offered to drive me to his place and then back to mine.) And I still flat-out refused. I later threw up AND passed out that night. And they didn't realize I was as drunk as I was until I threw up.
His drunk is exceptionally apparent very, very quickly. His motor skills go really quickly. He slurs his words. And he speaks and behaves really erratically. Like, he won't finish thoughts and sentences. He'll just say "Nevermind." over and over. He's been arrested for public intoxication twice in the past year. The first one was expunged and his second one is on its way to being expunged. Gotta love being a tall, blue-eyed, white dude.
I give him all my recommendations on supplements. Tea. Essential oils. I give him massages. I tell him to free-write, but he wont. He once went to the emergency room with a panic attack, thinking he was having a heart attack. He keeps saying he's going to make an appointment with his doctor but he wont.
Apparently, when he gets as drunk as he gets, (its hard to talk to him about some of this because he's embarrassed by it, so I'm not totally clear on all the details.) he doesn't FEEL as drunk as I think that I feel when I am too drunk. What I mean by that.... its like, his motor functions go, he slurs his speech, he becomes erratic... but he doesn't get the spins. He doesn't get dizzy, he doesn't throw up. He passes out sometimes. He passes out and becomes incontinent sometimes. But he's never complained of a hangover...
I think there is something fundamentally different about how his body actually processes alcohol compared with mine. He says that he gets that drunk because it feels good. He likes it. I just don't get it. At that point, I get the spins and it is MISERABLE. I HATE IT! But it feels good for him up to and including the point of passing out? What the fuck...?
It's definitely a problem, though. I'm doing everything I can to help, but its clearly not enough.
I like him. He is ridiculously and exceptionally talented. He is the organist for the largest episcopal congregation in the country. People respect him, he is gregarious and socializes easily with strangers, so he is ridiculously popular... if you can really say that in a real-world context. People want to associate themselves with him. We are ridiculously similiar in so many ways. Sometimes we'll talk about certain things about ourselves, and the other will say, "We're like the same person." We're both scorpios.
But some of the ways that we're similar, I'd just sort of wish to have found a partner that was different. Its not a deal breaker. There are red flags. The same red flags that exist in me, though. They're not huge. We're functional human beings with some baggage. I transcended my mental illnesses. I keep feeling like since I did, I should be able to guide someone else in doing the same. He appreciates my efforts and we work well together. I cook and he does the dishes. We moved too fast, but he says he likes having me here. He says there is something just comforting about me.
Its still obviously unfolding. Its in an interesting place. Its already comfortable.
As Rachel Maddow would say - Watch this space.