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I am a single woman, and I live alone. I’m not poor, but I do have to keep to a budget if I am to stay financially solvent. My brother and his wife have three children and live in San Diego. While I wouldn’t call them wealthy, money certainly is no object to them in most things. So it surprised me when they invited themselves to my house for their Spring Break. They certainly could have afforded a hotel, particularly since they drove my sister-in-law's company car, and therefore didn't have to pay for any of the gas!
I don't think of myself as inhospitable, but my house is a 800 square foot cracker box with one bathroom. I expressed reservations about three adults and three rambunctious children living in such a tight space, even for such a short time, but my concerns were casually dismissed. Despite the fact that we aren’t all that close—they usually only call when they want or need something—I decided to make the best of the situation for family’s sake. I got up early the day they were to arrive and cleaned the house for about three hours. I wanted to go to the grocery store to store up some provisions, so I decided to call them and see if there was any chance of them showing up while I was out.
They were still in San Francisco, sightseeing. And it was patently evident it had not even crossed their minds that they should call and let me know when they expected to arrive. Had I not called them, I would have been sitting around my house for most of the day waiting and wondering.
So in a fit of pique, I took myself out to Happy Hour—they didn’t think they’d be getting in until 8:00 or 9:00 at night. When I returned home from the pub around 7:00, there was a message on my answering machine. They expected to be at my house withing 30 or 40 minutes. They wanted me to order a pizza for them to eat when they arrived.
Oh, and my brother wanted a beer, as well, because he was tired from driving.
Since then, it’s been more of the same. I’ve gotten little sleep, because our schedules differ (I still have to go to work in the morning), and after I retire, they stay up watching TV and letting the children run screaming about the house. Closing doors and putting a pillow over one’s head only does so much to block out the cacaphony.
If there was even the pretense that they had any interest in me as a human being, rather than as an innkeeper, it probably wouldn’t be so bad. But so far, I feel that my presence is completely irrelevant to them.
I keep telling myself that it’s only for a few more days, but damn.
Any advice, folks?
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