No Rest for the Wicked

Well. We're back in Yorkton. It was such a short trip you might not have even noticed we were gone, but we were. I have the bags laying upstairs ready to be unpacked to prove it... And some under my eyes, just in case you still weren't convinced. (I'm so tired right now I've got that gross ready-to-vomit feeling and I can hardly keep my eyes open.)

We stayed with Glen's mom this time. Her condo has guest rooms that can be rented like hotel rooms which sounds lovely, but really isn't. For one thing, it means we are all crammed into the same room. Glen sleeps on the floor, Sam sleeps in his playpen, and Ben and I sleep in the double bed. Before you go thinking I had the best end of the deal, you should know that for a scrawny little guy, Ben takes up a LOT of space. (Ask my mom.) He tosses around and creeps and rolls and flails... So really, Glen and I were even. Actually, I made him such a nice bed out of a contraband (more about that later) comforter, and a foam and some blankets that he said he slept great. Except for last night. Last night none of us slept great. I don't know what Sam's problem was, but I was getting close to sending Glen to the pharmacy for some Gravol to spike his bottle with. Ugh.


I'm also still suffering from some residue grumpiness brought on by the endless list of stupid rules we have to follow at Glen's mom's condo. They aren't her rules. They're the condo rules and I hate every last one of them. One day I am going to take one of those rule books and put it in our cat litter box just for some pointless, but still satisfying, vengeance. I'll probably be fined the cost of replacing it, but it'll be worth it.

We can't have any food or drink in our room. (I did.) We must not move any of the furniture. (I always do.) We can't have a key to the outside doors, even though Glen's mom has a spare. (I can't seem to find a way to break that one.) So when we come back to our room at 11pm we have to phone his mom and wake her up so she can buzz us in. Either that, or be back to our room by around nine.

Another of my favorite rules is that you can't, absolutely MUST NEVER, use the pillows or comforter on the bed in the room. I did though. (Of course.) This may shock and appall you, but I actually used the comforter folded up under a sheet to make Glen's "bed" more comfortable AND I even used the pillows underneath mine Saturday afternoon when I felt like reading in bed. I know. I'm a baaaaaaad, bad girl. Some day, when they make a rule about not sitting on the chairs, I'm gonna do it anyways... N
aked.

There's more, but if I talk about it too much I clench up all over again and get this feeling like I want to steal things and spray paint my name on bridges.

Anyways, I have more to say about the weekend, but I'll save it for another post. I can see a time in the near future where ideas will be hard to come by, so I'm trying to stock up on them. Why you ask?

Now, would that be fun? If I told? Probably not.

Comments

  1. Are you sure she lives in a condo. This almost sound like a boot camp or something similar. Who makes up these rules? I can just imagine this group of almost old, pinch-faced, lemon sucking, sour pusses sitting around a table and talking about what they can do to make life as difficult as they can for any guests the tenants might dare to bring into the condo. At least you got to see your family again. On that note, how is your Dad doing. You haven't posted about him for a while and he NEVER does. Could you tell him please, that the grade 5/6 class pray for him every morning. I thought that was so amazing. I used to work in their class, but this year I work in the 7/8 class room. The grade 5/6 teacher told me last week that they pray for John every morning. They also pray for my Mom, which I love.

    ReplyDelete
  2. EXACTLY!!! I totally didn't think anyone would get it. I read what I wrote to Glen and we both agreed this post doesn't really even begin to cover how it feels to walk into that place, but you got it! I read him your comment too, and we both laughed like crazy. Your description was DEAD ON. LOL.

    I never write about Dad on here because I use his new blog, and I haven't been writing on there because I've been waiting for him to write something. (Plus while I was staying there I didn't have much time and this week at home was really short and busy.) BUT I'll write one this week. I promise. (I'll add this post idea to my stockpile.)

    ReplyDelete
  3. Another post hey. I'm totally on to you.

    Welcome home.

    ReplyDelete
  4. You were not supposed to use the pillows or comforter?! Are you kidding me?! Well, I obviously know that you aren't, but I would have used them just out of spite, even if I didn't need them. I almost always bring my own pillow everywhere, but I would have just used one of theirs. get my hair and dead flaking skin and bacteria allllll over it.

    ReplyDelete
  5. Oh my goodness! Are you serious?

    I can't help but laugh...

    I have never heard of that before - why even bother, like what's the point.

    Do they actually call it a Guest Room, because I looked up the defintion of guest...

    1. One who is a recipient of hospitality at the home or table of another.
    2. One to whom entertainment or hospitality has been extended by another in the role of host or hostess, as at a party.
    3. One who pays for meals or accommodations at a restaurant, hotel, or other establishment; a patron.
    4. A distinguished visitor to whom the hospitality of an institution, city, or government is extended.
    5. A visiting performer, speaker, or contestant, as on a radio or television program.
    6. Zoology. A commensal organism, especially an insect that lives in the nest or burrow of another species.

    and that is totally not a Guest room!

    ReplyDelete
  6. Wow, how do they come up with such rules?
    I think Margaret probably was a fly on the wall at one of their meetings.
    And Shirley, she certainly doesn't live there or she would have straightened them all out, and they'd have been forced to give the room the title of "cell".

    ReplyDelete
  7. Sorry Shirley, how did I get your name out of aspergertopia?
    I should never trust my memory.
    I know I read your comment about something, somewhere, on this blog site.
    My last comment should have read...And aspergertopia certainly doesn't live there or she/he would have straightened them all out, and they'd have been forced to give the room the title of "cell".

    ReplyDelete
  8. LOL. Nice work with the dictionary Jen!

    Awe you guys, your support means everything to me... I take it if I stayed at your houses you'd let me use your pillows?

    ReplyDelete
  9. Well... no, I wouldn't let you use my pillows, but I'd let you make a bed on our floor with your own air mattress! haha!
    Oh... this post made me laugh! And one word of advice... if you ever sit on their chairs naked... I think that would be grosser for you then it would be for them. You're hilarious! I can just picture you steaming the whole weekend about this stupid guest room!

    ReplyDelete
  10. LOL Ang. You're picture is very accurate I'm sure. That place drives me bonkers. I get so tense...

    ReplyDelete
  11. I really don't get that place1 You can't even paint your own walls whatever color you want. How can that be anybodies business? Makes you rethink moving to a condo. You have more lax rules renting. I think those rooms are for show. They don't really want anyone to use them.

    ReplyDelete
  12. By the way, margaret, the old pinch-faced, lemon sucking think tank you refer to in your imaginings actually exists at my mom's condo. They're called the "condo cops". They like to hang around / lurk / patrol the second floor of the commons area, pretending to play pool. From this vantage point they can see everyone who comes in the building from on high, waiting to pounce on unwitting rule-breakers. Not only do they take it upon themselves to chastise other tenant's family members, but they use these incidents of rule infractions to build their case for even stiffer rules and penalties.

    For example: my mom's spare key has been revoked. ("You live by yourself. What do you need a spare key for?") Furthermore, she is not allowed to make a spare. (A rule forbidding locksmiths to do so is imprinted directly on the key.) Breaking the rule or having a replacement key made (should you lose your only key) carries a $100 penalty.

    As far as the "guest" rooms go, I'm really at a loss to explain them. As Becky has outlined, you can't use anything in them, there's a long list of cleaning procedures you must perform before leaving the room (if you don't do them, the tenant is fined the cost of bringing in a maid), and there's a $25 / day fee for "using" the room. I've yet to figure out what this cost was invented to recoup (since patrons must do all the cleaning) ... my best guess to date is to pay for the refreshments at the condo cops next think tank meeting.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

"Becky needs"

Last Year

Iritis Math