Planning my escape.

Some circumstances have conspired, and it looks like I might be able to get the heck out of John’s “Little House of Horrors” and into a better living situation sooner than I thought. It appears the Universe might be just about to deliver.

I’d stay put, but in nearly five months now he still hasn’t cleaned up his home. Besides which, living in 50-degree rooms and taking freezing cold showers is really wearing thin on me, especially now that winter weather is making a comeback. Only reason I’ve managed so far has been the exceptional number of mild-weather days we’ve had this season. Along with being “home” as little as possible.

The reason John gives for not doing anything is because he’s “depressed”, he says. What’s he depressed about? Things not quite going the way he’d like with his potential “boyfriends” — online and off. I find that sentiment nothing less than offensive given that I’ve run out of money, lost my home, been forced to leave the city I loved, and even had to discard a personal possession — a piano — that was important to me. And he’s depressed! What’s wrong with this picture?

And he “lives paycheck to paycheck”, even though he has cheap rent and makes north of $40,000 a year. He runs late with his bills — electric, credit cards — and the reason there’s no heat or hot water is due to his being $1,000 in arrears with the gas company, and they cut him off. He “can’t afford” to pay up, he says, yet he has no problem affording to rent office space downtown, which in my opinion he doesn’t really need. He can write at home, like most aspiring writers do.

Plus, John is often rude, and sometimes even bossy. And the only time I have any privacy is when he’s at work or otherwise not at home. I want to get out of here sooner rather than later — I’ll have to in order to save this friendship, which is on thin ice at least as far as I’m concerned as I’m genuinely beginning to dislike him.

And now it looks like there might be a way, very soon. More details to follow.