I became so fed up with my besotted younger brother last evening that I abandoned him and betook myself to bed at 10:00 p.m. instead of trying out the premiere episode of a new T.V. series I wanted us to start watching.
I was sick of listening to his gutteral noises every time he exhaled whenever he was up from his chair and moving about. And he was not just wolfing down his cans of beer ─ he didn't seem able to stop eating.
The final straw took place after we had watched an episode each of two of the T.V. series we follow, and I was letting our T9 Android 8.1 TV Box locate sources (via the Cinema HD 'app') for that premiere episode of Banshee.
I had gone upstairs to use the bathroom after my brother had removed himself into the kitchen to begin preparing yet another meal ─ he had already eaten a supper earlier and subsequently been snacking.
I heard him open yet another can of beer, and then take out an assortment of nutritional supplements that he would wash down in piecemeal fashion with quaffs of beer.
Then when done, he began work on that meal's preparation ─ I could hear him slicing something. And the slicing sound went on and on. Meantime, there were those gutteral sounds or growls each time he exhaled, and I was becoming more and more irritated as I sat in the silent living room awaiting his return so that I could commence the episode.
Minutes seemed to be passing as he farted around in the kitchen, intermittently emitting those bloody annoying growls every time he exhaled.
It finally occurred to me that there was no reason for me to be sitting there wasting my evening babysitting him just because he is unable to operate the Android TV Box. If he was not home, I would already have gone to bed.
And so I switched the T.V. over to basic cable and without a word went on upstairs and was soon into my bed.
I had been extra sensitive all evening following his snarly remark that was like a flip-off when one of the links I had used for one of the previous episodes we had watched, had frozen the episode after about 10 minutes into the show.
As if he was my master, he had used a most sarcastically admonishing tone of singsong voice in the declaration, "This isn't acceptable!" And of course, he finished that statement with my name ─ in essence, addressing me unnecessarily directly as if this was a debacle and all my blundering fault.
And all the while, he in his drunken uselessness sat there as a helpless spectator, unable to operate the Android TV Box even when he's sober.
He only ever uses my name when he makes a snarky remark, and it riles me no damned end.
So the final kitchen episode where I sat idle and awaiting his leisure was more than I was willing to take. He was draining away actual minutes of the evening.
My upset endured after I was into bed, and adversely affected my ability to find sleep for some while.
But after some sleep did arrive, I was again awake and checked the time at 12:48 a.m.
I initially thought to try for one further bout of sleep, but then I decided that if my brother had gone to bed, I might as well rise then and get to work adding further content into the post I have under construction at one of my six hosted websites.
Upon opening my bedroom door after I dressed, I saw that he was long shut up into his bedroom and the living room dark and silent. Only one of my stepsons was still up ─ probably the youngest, the 22-year-old.
So I came here to my computer and was soon at work.
I think that it was after 4:00 a.m. by the time I returned to bed.
Over the course of this week, I had been hoping that I would be able to get away early this morning on a good, long walk. However, I was just too ill-slept to feel up to it.
Yet by 8:00 a.m. I was so awake again that not too very long thereafter I got up, and began work on a post at my private blog after going downstairs to fix myself a mug of hot instant black coffee.
My brother never emerged from his bedroom until maybe 9:00 a.m. His sober persona is someone quite different from the odious drunkard he transitions into with drink, and is seemingly always oblivious of his alternate self's misdoings.
I despise the drunkard. I hate that he keeps making an appearance here.
There had been a little very light rain overnight, and the day was mainly overcast. But that was not why I never got away on any walk. I simply never felt like it. I need to steel myself to face the public, and that requires me being well rested.
I was not. I seldom feel as if I have gotten adequate sleep for very long.
I believe that it might have been last Monday afternoon that I had intended to fill out the final copy of my brother's income tax return for which I had worked out the draft copy on Sunday.
When I went downstairs to complete the final copy, the draft was gone. My brother had apparently removed it and probably taken it with him to perhaps show to someone when he left for the afternoon.
The tax return was back the following day, but since that time I have never felt able to confront the work ─ my bad eyes have always been too weary for the task.
Well, early this afternoon my brother got to work on the final copy himself, re-calculating everything.
He claimed that I had made a math error at the conclusion, thereby ripping him off for 1¢. In other words, instead of the figure of whatever change he owed beyond the $458 figure, he actually owed a cent less than I had determined.
The poor guy probably spent well over an hour on that final copy, even though he was only copying after recalculating the figures I had already written out on the draft return. But at least he would have come to an appreciation of what I must have gone through in initially doing the original work.
When he was done, his own eyes needed bed rest, after which he left for the afternoon and will be again drinking somewhere despite all of the bars being closed ─ as far as I know. His usual haunt is due to re-open on a trial basis beginning June 1 if COVID-19 does not by then result in a new wave of infections.
While he was enjoying his bed rest, I had occasion to enjoy a discussion with my youngest stepson whom I was surprised to learn has been undertaking runs of late of approximately 13 kilometres. He apparently begins from here and then follows some complex route that I was unable to mentally track as he described it to me.
He's been running three times a week, and usually starts in the late afternoon or early evening.
I neglected to ask him if he's been doing this on his own, or if he has a running partner.
His older brother ─ a brawny 25-year-old ─ prefers gym workouts. Evidently a gym maybe 2½ miles from here has re-opened, so he's been using it. However, he will return to his usual gym once it re-opens ─ it's a mere four blocks from us.
I had myself a nap around 3:00 p.m., but despite getting to sleep, I was awake and got up barely over an hour later. And no ─ I did not feel at all refreshed. I still feel inadequately-slept, and my vision is somewhat blurred. My vision is in fact so poor now that I have to don non-prescription reading glasses just to take in newspaper photographs ─ let alone try to read small headlines!
I cannot live in this fashion for too much longer. I am seriously declining far too apace.
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