Apartment Living Wednesday

Can you believe we're already slapped with another Wednesday? I can't.
The week has been insanely busy for me. I still have boxes here and there. Piles of stuff that need to find homes and overall, just some organization.
I've also had to write papers for school, study for mid terms and keep Boy Child occupied. School cancellations are both evil and blessings in disguise.

A lot has happened around the compound and it will probably take me a little while to catch up but I will. It has to calm down at some point. It cannot always be crazy. Right? Oy!

**
I don't even know what day this was

The Mail Man had just brought the Boy Child home from his weekend full of brainless activity and we were upstairs doing something. I have no idea what; I suffer from CRS.

Then I hear... *knock knock*

I know it is probably not one of my crazy friends, they'd probably ring the doorbell if they didn't see me through the windows. I have a doorbell now and apparently this amuses them.

Me: "Who the hell is that?"

So we race downstairs and see "Onion" (you'll understand later) standing at the door, cigarette in hand and dog leash in other with a pit bull attached. I'm not exactly impressed.
Onion lives two doors down from me.
Onion and I have a history.
Many years ago when I received shit for money in retail hell, Onion and I worked together. Onion used to give me goose bumps.
Not the "Ohh baby, you make me so hot" goose bumps.
The "Ohh fuck, he's creepy. He doesn't look at me, he looks through me" goose bumps.
Ya follow? Good.

I had a really hard time working with him. Frankly, he was a pain in my ass and kinda... umm.. err... slow. I had zero patience for him. None!
This was before medication too. People like him are why people like me take me take drugs.
It's true!
On occasion I would give Onion a ride home because, well for obvious reasons. He was ride less.

And now.... he is my neighbor!

I open the door and there he is. Standing tall and proud to meet his new neighbor.
The single mom.

"Hi! I just wanted to introduce myself. I'm Onion." (you have no idea how bad I just wanted to say "I know" but I didn't)

I returned the favor, although not tall and proud. I acknowledged the dog in which he tells me...

"Oh, you don't want him in your house."

Umm... you're fuckin' right I don't!
Don't get me wrong; I love animals and all that fancy shit and I know the strong stereotype against pit bulls but it is what it is. Don't be hating. I read the news. I've seen it and so have you.

The conversation ends and he leaves. I want to shower.

Time passes and now I know the date. February 24th. I wrote it down.

Boy Child and I are upstairs drooling over his new bookcase I had built for him while he was at school. Also the new bookcase which I also umm... kinda sorta broke. This is why you don't buy shit from Walmart that you have to assemble then attach a piece of cardboard with a million teeny tiny nails to the back. Epic fail.

Again... *knock knock*

"Who the fuck?" (Yes, I swear around Boy Child and yes, he tells me this is wrong.)

TaDa! There he is!

I open the door and....

Him: This is going to sound kind of strange but would you happen to have a piece of onion?
Me: A piece?
Him: Yes. I just need a piece.
Me: I'll just give you the whole thing. Really.

I go get him an onion and return to the door in which he blurts...
"you look familiar to me"

Dammit! I've been had!
Me: Yea, we worked at "XXX" together.
Him: Ohh.. yea! Ok!

And off he went.

Oh me! Oh my! Seriously. What ever happened to the days when your neighbor would come over and ask for a cup of sugar or an egg?

Him asking for a "piece of onion" better not have a hidden message because this chic is not giving out any pieces and if he thinks my piece compares to an onion, I'd hate to see where he has been getting his real honest to goodness pieces.