‘I’ll huff and I’ll puff!’ said a large character to smaller ones from a tale. That’s how I felt tonight when I tried to deliver Brats’ remaining property from our house to his house. I kept insisting that I must fulfill my end of the hard work no matter how tired Brat was from hiking four hours with Twit today.
The story goes faithfully that I too was tired to admit I’ve done the best I could to assist Brat move out of the house. I worked four hours until 06:00PM when my bio-units arrived home from their usual 05:00PM evening mass. Until I fully recover from my flare ups, I could not sit comfortably on the pews made out of hard wood.
I brought down and boxed up a box of ‘PlayBull’ magazines and another box of CD’s and tapes; stuffed five big handled bags full of bottled glasses for model making; of DVD’s; of guitar music books; of comic books; of three car models; and stuffed the Mazda with these items along with an acrylic case; a broken model plane and a model tank in a box.
I did these packing activities in the mid-afternoon after I’ve felt strong enough to bear the pain of my three day flare ups, which have been manageable, thanks in part, to my late decision of taking a couple of pain killers yesterday. I do owe much to rest and relaxation earlier today from 10:30AM to 12:00PM and with the assistance of some light pink lighting I received.
My conscience was free and I opened up myself to doing only good deeds; since there was little else to do on a slow day. My understanding was that Brat is too busy from work to come by our house to pack up whatever is left from our house. His work does require lots lifting and dealing with vendors and users of computers all day.
I kept calling his cell phone but no one answered. I also left two voice mail messages to inquire how his day was and if he could call me back. But he never left his message that he received mine. I had expected a short invitation to his house so I could deliver his ‘mail’.
Prior to the arrival of my bio-units at 06:15PM from attending mass, I decided to check if he was home. I rang his door bell three times and no one answered. I went around the right of the fence and peeped over to see if I could dump his stuff that way.
I decided against trespassing in this manner. But I did hear the washer and dryer making noise upstairs as I continued to peep over the fence. Then I made my way in front of the garage and did hear some moving noises inside. My hunch was they were home.
At 08:00PM, what I got was another mouthful of the ‘Eli-Ball’ temper instead. He claimed he was too tired from having fun today with Twit and he insisted that tomorrow Sunday would be a better day to pick up his property. For whatever reason, he kept on insisting to have his way only by refusing my delivery tonight.
I knew this was my only chance to drive the already stuffed Mazda with his property because his inconsistent schedule has always conflicted with ours. I knew he was they type that didn’t like others dictating his time, especially when he has to lift a finger to do more cleaning at his house.
So, I rang the door bell three times and there was no response after I had told him of my arrival. I phoned him again at 08:08PM to make sure I got his ‘permission’ to dump his property at his door where he requested. He once again got angry at me for not informing him earlier of my plans when he already knew I was coming over to his house.
I hurriedly dumped all his property with much frustration and anger since he did not share my enthusiasm of helping to pack in the first place. I screamed through the closed front door that his stuff is waiting for him. But still there was no sign of either people.
I left in disgust and wondered why he would be determined not to let his own bio-units come into the house uninvited. My speculation is that he would use tonight’s situation to strengthen his leverage so Twit’s bio-units won’t visit unexpectedly as I have done tonight.
This tactic is assumed to be very wrong because Brat, who is rude to his own bio-units, could promote the idea that she could disrespect us after gifting them a fine down payment in the five digits for the house. So technically, we could blow the house down with our breath.
Today, I’ve asserted no ill will by doing this last help for these two Asian twits, who continue to practice bad manners towards their own bio-units AND in America. They truly represent the pigs in another tale.
The moral of the story: Open up your front doors to greet strangers as you would open up your hearts to meet your loved ones.
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Sunday June 11, 2006 – 04:33am (PDT) Edit | Delete | Permanent Link | 0 Comments
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