With a special, "yes, YOU" to the assholes who live upstairs from me.
It's been a Very Rough Week at Chez Concateknit, in a Don't Get So Cocky About How Good Your Life Is kind of karmic ass-kicking kind of way.
Oh - I should back up a bit.
I hate my upstairs neighbors. From the day they moved in they've been terrible. Inconsiderate, hostile, rude, gross, loud, obnoxious, and well, they've just been assholes (and not assholes in the endearing way I usually mean it). Why do I think they're assholes? Well, let me give you a few examples:
- They like to argue with each other, and loudly. He calls her f*cking psycho, she cries hysterically and screams, and then one or both of them goes slamming out of the house and screeches away in their car.
- They pay no attention to the fact that they have downstairs neighbors. Music, voices, shoes, whatever - they are as loud as they please, all the time.
- They smoke. In the common hallways. And apparently they like to toss their cigarette butts onto the front lawn (we learned this from our landlords who happen to live on the first floor of our triple decker).
- They thought nothing of using our front balcony to hoist furniture up to their balcony. They just opened a window and climbed out onto the balcony and never once did they ask us if we minded.
- They left garbage in our common foyer, blocking our storage space and never asked if we minded, or if they were inconveniencing us.
But the straw that broke the camel's back was when they parked in the middle of a spot that they had not cleared out (do you think they FORGOT that they didn't clear that space out?) and then the boy asshole literally flipped out when Mike called him out about it. I mean, boy asshole flipped out and screamed at Mike.
Thankfully, we've found out that they are moving out (the banging and clanging and dragging body noises are happening upstairs from me as I type) and you know what the best bit of it is? Boy asshole told Mike that it was our fault that they are moving out. Can you even f*cking believe that? Our Fault. I'm flabbergasted.
Mike and I call people with this large a sense of entitlement the "Unique Little Snowflake" generation. Have you noticed that there is a huge group of people who seem to believe that the world revolves around them, and that anyone who would call them out on their shit or expect them to behave, gasp, respectfully, to other people is somehow wrong?
So, here's what I think, in bullets, because I Am Tired (again, this is directed to the Assholes Who Live Upstairs and Anyone Else Who Thinks The World is Beholden to Them):
- As hard as this is to believe, I don't care what you think
- You are not that smart
- You are not that attractive (bleach blond hair on boy asshole? um, yeah - not so much)
- If insulting my appearance is the best you can do, I'm probably not going to be really devastated (see bullets 2 & 3 above)
- There are more people in the world than just you
- What you want is not the most important thing in the world to me
- You are not entitled to do or say whatever you want
- You ARE accountable for your behavior, and if it is your CHOICE to be an asshole, how about you not try and play the MARTYR too, okay?
- Martyr's are not sexy, appealing, or attractive
- Personal responsibility IS attractive
- If you are married to boy asshole and never, ever, not once, do a single thing to diffuse boy asshole's behavior then that makes you girl asshole. And equally culpable for all things assholish that happen
- If you tell me that it's my fault that you are moving out? Don't be so f*cking surprised that I consider that a good thing (again, see bullet 2 above).
With any luck, a decent night's sleep will return your Concateknit to her usual self.
It's been a long week.