Postcards from the Deep End

I went off the deep end last night after one too many hours of sleep deprivation. Mariana decided to have a slumber party. Her friend showed up on the doorstep at 11:00 p.m. I was immediately peeved because I knew for sure that meant lots of noise and no sleep for me. Again.

I tried to take the high road. I really did. My attempt at doing a little bedtime reading was soon disrupted by their chatter and thumping around in Mariana's room, which is right above me. A surge of anger sent me out into the hallway where I yelled up the stairwell and through her door – one of her favorite tricks.

“MARIANA! I NEED A MOMENT WITH YOU PLEASE … MARIANA???.”

She finally popped her head out and I went on a tirade that went something like this:

“Why would you think that it’s okay to have a slumber party on a week night? You are totally inconsiderate. You share a house with other people and you know the noise just echoes through the house. If you and your friend need to hang out this late you should go to a bar!”

“I’m sorry…”

“You’re sorry? And then what? What are you going to do?”

“Go somewhere else?”

“Yea. I think that sounds like a good idea.”

With that I stomped back to my room and slammed the door. The "somewhere else" that she decided to go, was the kitchen. It was quieter for a while and I nearly got to sleep, but it wasn't long until they went back upstairs and started thumping around and chattering again. I gathered that they were getting ready for bed. Meanwhile, I had passed my window of opportunity to fall asleep and I was PISSED. It was nearing 1:00 a.m.

I got out of bed in a major huff and did what any housemate bent on revenge would do. I blasted Black Sabbath with my door open and went into the kitchen to bang around every pot, pan, dish, or any other object that might make obnoxious noise. I was completely possessed by sleep deprived rage. No one else was home at the time, so I was free to be as crazy as I wanted to be. Then Rubi came home.

She must have thought she’d stumbled into a mad house, when I, the one who is usually tucked away quietly in my room, was blasting heavy metal and slamming things around the kitchen. She cautiously entered the room and approached me with a blank stare of confusion on her face.

“Oh. My. God. What is going on?”

I went on another tirade about missing my beauty sleep due to Mariana’s complete lack of consideration for anyone in the house.

“I’M FUCKING SICK OF IT!”

She looked at me with her mouth gaping. “I’ll be right back,” she said.

A few minutes later she returned with Mariana who had clearly been crying. Rubi made her sit at the table with us to duke out the issue. Rubi was doing most of the talking for Mariana which pissed me off even more.

“What are you? Her mother?” Mariana, do you have anything to say?”

She just whimpered that she has tried to be quiet. It was no surprise that she played the victim and I was the villain. I think I scared the crap out of her though and I’ll bet she’ll find a way to be more considerate from now on.

“I am on about a 20 hour sleep deficit,” I said slowly to them. “When I don’t get my sleep this is what happens. I go off the deep end.” I looked at Mariana, “Welcome to the deep end.”

Rubi went into a lecture about how no one is purposely being vicious, and yada, yada, yada and then…. She revealed why she had stopped talking to me when she moved in. Apparently it was because her tea kettle kept getting moved off the stove and she thought I was doing it on purpose to make some point that she wasn’t welcome in the house.

I live with crazy people. I think I have gone crazy too.