My son was supposed to live with me one more year in this big house.

On Wednesday I took my cat to the groomers. I read many pages of “Far From the Tree” while I ate green chili hash. I also walked about 3-miles. When I finally got ahold of my son on the way home he said that his girlfriend said sorry that she didn’t see me and goodbye. When I got home he said, “Don’t ever mention my weight in front of my partner again.” I said, “You two got home from the Thrift Store yesterday and unrelated to nothing you said, ‘You forced me to play sports’ and I said, ‘It’s good to be active and it impacted your weight positively.'” And he said it to me for the last time. Well, three times, actually.

I texted his Dad, picked up his Dad, we all talked, and he freaked out. And the one room of Hilton that he trashed out constantly is over. I actually found a sub sandwich box, a pizza box with a garlic butter cup, a moldy glass, a plate, and silverware. And this time, three empty beer bottles. We’d had a coherent conversation when I found nearly all my tupperware–some of it has white spores of mold–under his bed with silverware on June 4th before I left for OR. The time for conversations is over. He can move from the couch to the bathroom in his Dad’s two room apartment. He literally does nothing and it’s not possible to motivate him. He’s a high school graduate and needs to be with his father who knows what it’s like to be male.

His Dad lives in a Brownstone on the third floor with a galley kitchen, small table, small living room and one bedroom. He has no car. Not my problem. I am not being told f-you anymore. He’s 17.5, has three parents and my direct tenure has ended. I shut down his savings and checking and called it good. Well, not really, he’d spent a couple thousand dollars this summer so far and has less than $70 to his name. I took it to him with a couple of checks and his Dad can open an account for him.

Time for male influence. I’m not a punching bag. I also can’t live with him because he won’t follow simple rules and never has. He is a lot easier to live with when there’s another adult ego in the house. Honestly, he knows what I’m willing to do. And I’ve saved in an ESA for him since he was 2-months-old. He has 20k which would pay for a year of a state school. I will:

1. Buy him a car when his Dad will co-sign a loan for $100 for 36-months that I think that he should pay, but it wouldn’t be my loan
2. Pay any tuition check or electronic statement to school, college or university when he has Cs or better in all classes
3. Insure him until he’s 26 (medical and dental)

I won’t:

1. Continue to have him direct profanity at me
2. Bail him out of jail
3. Support or help with a kid that he has fathered (outside of living on his own completely and paying all his bills–but you can’t do that at 17)

He called me narcissist and abusive. I know that his girlfriend has a friend who calls social services all the time to try to get out of her house. His current girlfriend has been to residential treatment three times. She also has gotten in two car accidents already and had the last one on Tuesday. He runs with kids who have had lots of years of therapy, and frankly, he has too, and think that their accountability is pretty limited. They’re all either addicted to vaping devices or smoke a ton of pot.

It’s so nice to be in this empty house. Sure, there are a ton of pets here and only the one almost 12-year-old dog is mine, but it’s good to not have someone who begrudgingly cleans the kitchen, sleeps all day, and binges Netflix, YouTube and sometimes Prime and Disney most of the day and typically expects all meals. Sometimes he gets up at 1, so I don’t make but one or two. I changed all the streaming passwords, because these are not a car, school or health. He does coach, and has mostly done cardio with me on Mondays, but I’m just so tired of fighting. He apparently resents the years that he had to play sports and an instrument. Those years ended in 8th grade.

Last night I went to the women’s discussion group. It was wonderful. I made some good connections. On Monday I go to dinner with an author and check out the other group. I also got an invitation to an exclusive formal event on August 20th, which will be with other like-minded folks. Bowling is done until winter. I have guitar. I’ll have a mini-golf team this fall.

I’m still not going to swipe.

Yesterday my best friend and I swept all the masonry in the back garden. She fell in love with the view, the creek that feeds into the river, and the garden. She had her husband come over and work the numbers with their loan officer. They want to buy a house for their kids. The realtor came by and photographed all the issues with workmanship. She hugged my best friend and went to hug me and I said, “I’m way too sweaty. I’m a dirty hippy right now.” She said, “She is sweaty too; I felt it.” I laughed and said, “She’s definitely glistening.” Then they both complimented each other on their outfits.

She told me what the next steps are. We should be able to do a walk through on the weekend, but I can’t personally on Monday because I work all day and have dinner with the author and a group. The realtor leaves for Germany on Tuesday. She’ll been in France and Spain next to walk the Camino. I think that she’s back mid-August. I’d imagine that we sell the house either to my best friend, or sometime at the end of summer.

She’s so competent and sexy. My best friend told me that she’s going to tell her that I like her and I said, “Don’t. We’ve been through that. When we hike the summit, I’ll bring the Ballet Dancer so I have a buffer.” She said, “You’re going to have to start hugging her. That’s just her.”

ARG. It sucks sometimes to just be attracted to women. It will be interesting to be back at work and see the climber. She always misses the first two weeks of work because of Burning Man. I really hope that by then I’ve had some dates. Again, I’m not going to force anything, but it would be nice to have some kissing–not sweaty hugs though.