Friday 30th March 2018
Reading time 3 minutes 02 seconds
If you believe your enlightened go spend a week with your family – Ram Daas
I’m 47 years old, during my time I’ve rarely lived alone and mainly shared my space with others. Some family, some friends, some idiots. OK, lots of idiots, or were they? The common factor that I’ve heard from those that have shared a space with me is that I’m not always that easy to live with but that’s what idiots would say because I believe I’m relaxed, level headed, thoughtful, humble………
Clearly they were all wrong, then finally last week it started to dawn on me that maybe I was the problem.
I spent the last 10 days living with a friend in New York. We were fairly close as mates, well as close as we let one another be. I thought being with him for that duration would test my patience, it turned out it tested his.
I like this guy, there is no filter with him. He says what he thinks and while that’s not appreciated by most of society for fear of upsetting other people he doesn’t subscribe to that nonsense. He reminds me of my brilliant step mum who was an honest talking South African lady who called it like she saw it. She was a force of nature and if she gave you a tongue lashing you knew you were lashed.
Matthew you look terrible in that top.
Matthew stop being mean and horrible.
Matthew, don’t buy a house with a flat roof.
Matthew eat this you’ll like it. What do you mean you don’t like it, you’re wrong, you’ve not tried it enough.
Matthew stop being sick
She was always right of course, apart from that top, I loved that top.
So back to New York, the towel that we stood on by the shower was wringing wet. I allegedly screamed at him.
How did this towel get so wet?
Why didn’t you hang it up when you were finished?
You stood on this for all of 30 seconds, did you take it in the shower with you?
What are you some sort of animal?
I’ve got to live with this for 10 days?
He looked at me and ignored me.
I didn’t think nothing more of it.
Then the next day he asked if I’d calmed down about the Towel? What was he on about? What towel? He then replayed at the same volume my exact words and actions. It sounded like my step mum, exactly like my step mum, and me but without that whiney nasal sound I believe I have [he does a very good me impression].
He was doing the flailing around of my arms, the head thrown back in disbelief, it was like looking in a mirror although one that made me look a little taller and not so good looking.
He wondered at the time if he should punch me to calm me down. Damm, I think I agreed with him. I may of, just maybe over reacted.
I then started thinking about all the times I’ve spoken to people and it turns out I was sounding angry and aggressive at them but I thought I was just expressing an opinion.
Damm it could be me………alongside people misunderstanding me.
My dilemma is should I change?
I’m 47 years old. I’ve probably got 16ish summers remaining.
Is it worth putting the energy into being a better person to live with or say to those that I do cohabitate with that this is me?
I mean those books that need reading or the jokes I wish to write are not going to be realised if I’m trying to be a better person to live with are they? Plus, how many more people will I live with? I do believe I can change. Almost anything can be achieved if you really want it to happen, but you need to really want it.
While typing this up my sister asked what I was doing. I explained that I was writing about my failures as a housemate, she said she had a few hours spare to give examples as she had hundreds. I declined her sarcastic offer.
I was then reminded that on the very few occasions she visited my home I let her know that her shoes and coat are now by the front door for when she’s ready to leave. This is normally within 5 minutes of her arrival. I thought I was just being practical. Turns out it’s possibly seen as rude.
No, I’m not going to change. Don’t get a towel that wet there’s no need. Don’t leave your shoes scattered to the wind. I’ll be travelling and living alone I guess.
Funniest experience this week: Spending time with my sister. We laugh a lot together, but obviously it’s at her house.
Picture: Me outside New Yorks comedy cellar.