Friday, February 17, 2012

Very Well, I Shall Move

Alright, I shall grant that I do indeed need to move out of here. Mr. Knife and I haven't had anymore conflicts, and while I'm not fearful or nervous this is occupying my attention for the moment. I've let my room become utterly untidy and have gotten way off track with my diet because I don't care as much about anything else other than this issue, so it looks like it's time to get out so I can even be bothered with my other endeavors.

Mr. Knife hasn't been home all week, but he did come to my restaurant to eat last night. It's strange that he goes there, as he knows I work there and was almost certainly there when he was there, and yet he didn't acknowledge me or ask to see me. My coworkers say that he was rather rude to them, and that he had bloodshot eyes. This further confirms that he has had a surprising and negative change in personality, and increases the probability that he's a substance abuser. Plus, he is still totally evading his unacceptable hostility from that other morning. I don't know what's going on with him or what he's doing, but he's a very negative and scary person now, one who often seems ready to explode some internal pressure.

Without concern, my landlord is refusing to refund the remainder of the month, and while there's nothing in the contract that addresses this issue -- so we're at an impasse, as I can't validly demand it and she can't validly withhold it -- she's dishonestly making it sound as if it's contractual, and beyond that she's keeping my deposit since she believes the utility bill will cost that much anyhow. I'm not bothering to argue with her, but what a money parasite. As such, that sends my plans slightly askew since I was in part depending on that sum.

Stupidly, I got my car fixed, which cost about $450. Given that I'll be able to walk to work from my new location and not need to drive as much -- I should have delayed it. That means that while I can make ends meet in the new accommodations, the timing is bad and I can't really move out as instantly as I thought I could. Since Mr. Knife is gone so much and that we avoid each other I thought it would be fine to delay the move until its regular time, but I'm simply not thinking/eating/acting right with my mental processes chewing away at this issue, so I'll go ahead and bear the disruption by taking out an emergency loan or credit card or something. The sooner I can get out, the sooner I can get back to life.

As such -- though you'll be forewarned -- I may be offline a bit in reestablishing myself, since my apartment won't be already internet accessible.

It's still odd to me that my landlord isn't taking this seriously, and I think I've figured out why. Given how consistently her actions are driven by her emotions, I think she's taking this unseriously because she hasn't witnessed the negative firsthand as I have, and even paying attention to anything else. To her, it's only her firsthand perceptions that bear the most emotional weight, so when I convey to her this negative information, such as his knife threat and street fighting hobby, it doesn't feel "real" to her since it clashes with her estimate that he's a "nice guy." At the same time she'd almost certainly grant that I'm conveying factual information, and yet, retardedly, she's going to continue living with him.

A good example of this kind of mentality in other areas would be my elders in regards to fire hazards as I was growing up. More or less, while multiple things would be a fire hazard, it's only the things that frightened them that would cause them to alter their behaviors and exercise precaution. Out of an oven, candle, dishwasher, and computer, it is only the candle and dishwasher that they would fret about, while they're fine operating an oven and computer and leaving it unsupervised, even leaving the house with them on. While they're all fire hazards in some way, they alter their behaviors to exercise caution about the candle and dishwasher only because they've heard stories of them actually burning houses down, so while the other objects can burn a house down too, they don't fear them since they've heard no stories. It's okay to them to put in a roast and simmer a stew before leaving to visit someone, but all candles must be extinguished if anyone dare leave the room!

My landlord is stupid beyond words here. I doubt Mr. Knife will stay static with his personality, that he's likely to deteriorate further, and sooner or later have a qualm with my landlord. I don't see the qualm ending prettily. Her stupidity is going to be the end of her somehow.

Alright now, let's see how quickly I can amskray. 

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