Archive: November 2006

Rattling the Cage
posted under I Can Say Fuck, Idiot World 25.11.2006
The weather has taken a turn for the worse, in reflection of my souring mood. Oh, what happened to the carefree optimism of yesteryear? Every day I find myself thinking of the future, and every time I think of the future I am filled with fear and anger.

So many parallels to school. Now as then, our stability is to be uprooted. I find myself thinking of “Will the Circle Be Unbroken,” and as the song describes its answer, I know mine is also “yes.” Right now, the only stable circle is what’s left of those I knew from school - and those relationships seem so much truer than these. We have been here two months and already talk is of next year and living plans - and the forecast is for more unrest. Last year’s decisions made anew; another search for solidarity among dwindling numbers.

I have lost the plot here. What I am doing is becoming less and less relevant - I have stopped existing from day to day, completely lost sight of the objective here because the objective has lost all meaning, because with every day my loathing of the stuffed-shirt business world grows, and all I am doing here is hard time on a degree that will put me into just that, unless I can come up with a solid alternative plan. That is why I fear the future, becase I can’t yet see a valid, self-sustaining path that doesn’t involve working to the bone in a shitty office to make enough money to live.

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Already I’m having twisted fantasies about getting up and leaving this house, taking all my stuff, and closing all my utility accounts, just to show the rest of them how much I take care of here. Every time I tidy up tossed-aside shit downstairs, empty the trash, wash up, sort out bills, fix the network, drive them to the supermarket; every left-on light, oven hob, shower, and TV I turn off reminds me that I do this without asking for thanks, just out of a basic desire to improve living standards for all of us - and, in most cases, because if I don’t, noone else will. I do these things unasked, yet the moment I try to ask for a little support in return, I am shouted down.

We received an electricity bill yesterday for £135, for the last two and a half months, so I took the time to write a friendly note to the rest of the house highlighting a few ways in which energy could be saved, to ease our collective wallet strain. Coming home in the evening to find lights on in empty rooms, and the shower empty but switched on, I asked Josh if he had read the note, which resulted in another hitting-head-against-the-wall argument. He endeavoured to set me straight on a few points, namely that I shouldn’t try to “nanny” the rest of the house, nor should I feel compelled to “tell 20-year-olds what to do.” Naturally my defences were worthless - the very idea that I would do this for the good of the house, and not out of some sort of preternatural vaunting of authority, was out of the question. And so I died a little more.

You can see the attraction of this idea though, no? A quiet escape in the dead of night; they wake up to a house with no water, electricity, gas or Internet connection (no dedicated firewall, media server or cabling throughout); to a kitchen free of half its equipment, a fridge free of beer, and no car out front to shuttle them around. Not looking for praise or reward, just the tiniest hint of recognition. A savage demonstration of my part in the running of this house, but too late :-).


Tuber to the Rescue
posted under Scribbles 13.11.2006
Our electric shower died at approximately 8pm on Friday, for no apparent reason. It wasn’t even in use at the time, but popped all the breakers in the fuse box until I managed to isolate it. So having managed all weekend, I decided to go “old school” this evening and have a bath, before discovering that in a fit of helpfulness Josh had thrown away the bathplug and not bothered to aquire a replacement. So after the customary volley of abuse in response so my questioning the wisdom of this, I wandered around the house looking for a suitable substitute. Scouring the rooms downstairs looking for the plunger, I found the perfect, if unlikely solution: a potato. Selecting one of just the right size to smoothly cover the plughole, I went to try it out, and it worked with only minor leakage.

The only remaining challenge was then to try to achieve something like a warm bath using the kettle, as the hot water ran out fairly rapidly. Isn’t having a water tank the size of a shoebox fun?