I may as well have stayed at home for all the privacy, or peace of mind, I'll get here.

Let me paint a picture.

That goddamned drunk Loyd is on the front porch practically day in and day out. Whenever I do something as simple as going to the store, I have to deal with him in one way or another. One reason I wanted this place, or any place, so badly, was so that I could come and go as I pleased without having to explain myself to God or anyone.

Then there's Tyler. Anytime I come or go, and he is out, I have to deal with him. If he gets his ass inside of my door, he is immediately digging into everything, trying to find out what he can fuck with and how far he can go before someone lays him out. But no one ever touches him. I have to retrieve him. And I have to be civil. Its not his fault they let him run wild, and I won't be mean to a child for his parent's shortcomings.

Then there's Chad.

All evening, today for example, its sounded like there was a commando team in Sherry's apartment, commencing exercises. Thump. Thump. Thump. Bam. Boom. Bam. He's come to my door once, and has knocked on my window. Or maybe that's putting it too softly. He's tried to knock the fucking door in, and he's almost succeeded in knocking the fucking window out. And he can't take a hint. He came over last night when I was definitely not in the mood for a squatter. I thought for certain that my mood and manner would tell him something, but he chose to ignore it. I finally had to act as if I were having trouble with someone over the phone (who was really pissing me off), and then use Tyler's entrance as an excuse to demand evacuation.

Then, and only then, did I find a certain peace. Until the stomping commenced upstairs. Jesus. Jesus Fucking Christ.

I've made the biggest mistake in my life moving into this apartment. The rent is reasonable. The place is nice. The room are spacious. But Goddamn!!! I'm knee deep in fucking family! And it's a magnitude worse here than it was at home!!!!!!!