The Jerk

I'm still thinking about my confrontation with my neighbour. The fact that it's bothering me so much indicates that there must have been something to what she said to me. Sometimes, even unpleasant people can speak the truth, especially when they're drunk.

So maybe I am a jerk in some ways. I'm kind of a parasite in that I don't work. I pretty much hate the environment in which I live in that I no longer have a place for my stuff, or a quiet spot to reflect or listen to music. I stubbornly refuse to join the rest of the human race in the day-to-day struggle for existence. It's not really that I'm lazy. Maybe I just feel that I'm too good for working, that I have much better things to do with my time. But then, I don't have any money or space to do any of those much better things.

My neighbour may leave her dog's turds out to rot, but at least she pays the rent on the yard in which she leaves them. She works nights, and sometimes our renovations on the other half of the house keep her from sleeping during the day. She seems to have felt that it was her right to throw an all-nighter and keep us up for a change. I'm not sure if the rest of the neighbourhood would share her idea of entitlement, but I understand her feelings on the matter.

And the fact is, my cat hasn't been fixed, so he might very well be spraying her porch, hence evoking her harsh words against the beast. I don't have any money to take him to the vet, so it's my own slackerly attitude that makes my cat a nuisance. What it comes down to is that I need to make some money. I might be willing to put up with being broke, but I owe it to my cat to get him the professional attention he needs to curtail his spraying habit. But don't worry, avid Fakiefans; I won't let employment get in the way of blogging. Radio free Fakiegrind will continue to broadcast come what may, even if the jerk goes to work.