We're starting a commune. Wanna live with me?

[lykomancer]

In less than a week, one of my housemates-- Jen-- has asked me if two different, new people could move in with us, one temporary, the other permanent.

My Official Answer: I don't care.

Now, this isn't because I haven't thought about it. I have, at great length.
That's five or six people living in out apartment, sharing one small bathroom, one small kitchen. That's five or six people all with different sleep schedules keeping each other awake with their music and conversations. That's "OMFG, we just went grocery shopping three days ago and we already ate two loaves of bread?!?!" That's more "I can't stand it when so-and-so does ____" and "XYZ really drive me nuts! and "If I have to ___ ONE MORE TIME...!" That's trying to organize more work times and chorelists and bill payments.
Now with twice the psychodrama and half the communication.

That's putting up with Matt's bad puns and dysfunctional, almost schizophrenic breaks between "I can't take anything seriously; I'm gonna quote Animaniacs" and "Oh, my God, my life sucks and I want to die."

Also, Wendy hasn't been asked about either of these, and she right now holds the final vote. If Wendy says no, flat-out, the answer is no. She's already having issues, and I don't want to put any more stress on her, since she did come all the way out here from Pennsylvania to start over again with Tom and I.

I'm a lot more OK with the temporary resident, for several reasons.
One being the temporary factor.
The other main one being the fact that this could be for him what we offered to Wendy: a completely new start someplace new, along with the time he would need to get back up on his feet again.
He's dead-ended where he is, and really seems to need the help.

.
.
.

BUT
...my Official Answer to both is "I don't care."

I maintain my neutrality.
It could be really fun and interesting. It could be a miserable, atrocious failure.
It could just be the same as life for us in this household is already, a bit of both joy and hardship as we bumble along, while improving life for others. This is the most likely, and that's why I don't care.

God, I'm such a sucker for stray kittens.

Comments

[chauni.livejournal.com]

I know how you feel. Even with three of us here, each with our own rooms and two bathrooms, I feel like I need to get out, to stretch my arms here and there. Sometimes, I want to come home after a day and find at least half of a two liter of pop still in the fridge. Sometimes, a quiet dinner in front of the living room television with soft lights sounds ideal. Sometimes, the sound of nothing is the best in all the world.

[lykomancer.livejournal.com]

It's all of that and then some, but it sounds like I'm preachin' to the choir on most of this.

Partly, it's the fact that I feel like the locus of sanity and power in the house most of the time. Whenever anyone has a problem, they come to me.
While I appreciate being informed about what's going on, and I am happy that people feel that they can talk to me about stuff, sometimes it's about stuff that could be resolved if they spoke to someone else in the house instead of me.
It is not my problem if you don't tell someone that you need to use the bathroom and they are in there.
It is not my problem if other people have eaten all of your special food.
It is not my problem if someone in the house hasn't paid you back.
Much of this lies out of my sphere of control. I can't do anything about it. They could, if they said something to the housemates that aren't me.

...I'm sorry I'm bitching at you. I just need to get it out, y'know?
*sigh*

[chauni.livejournal.com]

::smiles and hugs:: Not a problem. I know your pain.

For me, I'm the mother of the house. I didn't trust the guys I live with concerning any money issues, so everything is in my name. One isn't even paying me right now because he's been out of work for four months and the job market is shitty here, and the other one pays me as much as he can, but it's not enough either. They don't pick up a broom or a rag to clean to save their lives, to cook dinner is out of the question, and to shop is beyond their control. I am mother and wife without any of the tax breaks, I swear.

::hugs:: I've spent today yelling at one roommate to help me clean the house all day (God forbid that I woke him up at two in the afternoon to do it). He doesn't pay to live here, so why should he sleep all day and play on the computer? I'm sure all of us wish we could have such a gig.

[lykomancer.livejournal.com]

Oh my good god, I'd kill your roommates. Kill them dead. Beat them with a broom while shrieking and then kill them.