I Do Not Invite Drama.

You would think--wouldn't you think?--that what with all this happy happy happiness happening, there wouldn't be any room for the kind of garbage that seems to happen with regularity in the vicinity of my life. (I can't say it happens "to me"--I'm not a victim of it--but it certainly happens AROUND me often enough.)

As I was saying--You would think that, wouldn't you?

You would be wrong, just like I was.

I know I mentioned that Tim had a new girlfriend. Well, Tim now has a new EX-girlfriend, it appears. This sucks for more than one reason, as you will see. I don't know what happened--I think it was a bunch of juvenile trash about who said who would call at what time and then didn't, or who wasn't sweet enough when he called her on the phone, possibly because she either was or was not sleeping with her ex.

This makes me very, very glad that I'm currently eschewing relationships.

So anyway, somewhere along the line, Tim started getting calls from this female he'd met while he was homeless. He wouldn't tell me much about her, other than that she was really, REALLY pressuring him for a booty-call, and he was ambivalent enough that I figured I'd never meet her.

That lasted til I came home from Mom's and ...boom, there she was. And she was young. I mean, he TOLD me she was young, but there's young, and there's YOUNG, and she was definitely, extremely, very very YOUNG. I would have guessed 22, maybe.

She was also one of Those Really Loud Brash Girls. I have occasionally, in my past, been almost one of Those RLBGs; I've grown out of it, mostly. TRLBGs are the sort of women who age poorly, who are found in dive bars wearing too much makeup and skirts too tight, well into the age when less makeup and looser clothing would serve them well. While they're young, these are the women who will sleep with your boyfriend without a second thought, and wonder why you're mad. These are people who are best in small doses, taken at long intervals, preferably while in a large and interesting crowd.

Needless to say, I could barely stand her. But I tried, for Tim's sake; he said she reminded him of one of his old girlfriends, in some ways, and I know that relationship was one of his unresolved issues, so I figured: Let him work it out; I'll put up with her for THAT long, at least.

And that lasted til last night, when I discovered that four days worth of my methadone had mysteriously "disappeared" from the bottle on the kitchen shelf, where I have kept it since Day One.

The clinic says they can't do anything about it unless I file a police report; I'm not inclined to do that. I have enough methadone to get through the rest of the week on half-doses; there's a chance, though, that I could go dopesick before my regular clinic appointment on Monday. Tim, of course, didn't want to believe it; first he asked if maybe I'd "miscounted" my doses, then he actually tried to throw his friend Jaime under the bus, because both Jaime and the girl stayed over for the same two nights. I know Jaime; he wouldn't do that. He would ask for some, if he wanted it; Jaime's a weed dealer, not a thief. The girl, though---not only is she loud and brash and amoral, but she's also a liar--she told Tim she was 20, when she's actually 19--and apparently also a thief. (Tim called to ask her about it; all she could say was "I'm so tired..." Gee, I wonder why; you just ate about 240 mg of methadone, you little nit.)

I do not want to be dopesick. I am hoping I won't be. But I am very, very, very very pissed--at her, mostly, and a little bit at Tim, for letting his lower brain get the better of his judgement. Mostly I'm just nervous--and I will be, til Monday morning.

Update, 10:00 PM:
In comments, Cody left me this Very Good Question:

What kind of 19 year old girl falls for a 30-40 yr old homeless guy?

My immediate answer was "A very slutty one", or possibly "a very shady, cagey one". But a while ago I got a call from Tim which pretty much answered any and all questions about her, once and for all, and so I pass this answer along to you:

The kind who gets kicked out of her supervised-living program (for reasons unknown) and who, lacking anywhere else to go, ends up in the psych ward.

And check THIS out--At Tim's behest, I called Jaime (to tell him that at no time had I ever even remotely suspected him of being the methadone thief) and Jaime reported to me the following: Apparently, and completely unbeknownst to me, the little robber (heretofore named Squeaky) found out this morning that she was being booted from her current residence. (And Cody--here's another question: What kind of 34-year-old guy brings a female into his house without first getting at least a LITTLE baseline info about HER situation? Because as much as I can find out from him, he didn't know she was in supervised living, nor did he know why, nor does he know why she's being booted out, nor does he know whether the psych commitment was voluntary or (my guess) otherwise. Now, who the hell brings someone into A FRIEND'S HOME without knowing even the basics of where she lives, among whom, and for what reasons?? I'm beginning to doubt Tim's much-lauded character-judgement skills--seriously.)

Anyway, Squeaky knew she was going to be outdoors, and so apparently she started pressuring Tim to be allowed to stay HERE. In MY house. In the house of the person from whom she just STOLE--after eating food from my fridge, drinking beer that I'd paid for, using ALL my damn shampoo to wash her ratty hair, smoking cigarettes that--surprise again!--I'd funded the purchase of...Did I mention she STOLE FROM ME??? And not just empty-the-change-jar stealing--stealing MEDICINE, without which (I have NO doubt at ALL she knew) I could conceivably become quite ill?? And she's asking TIM, of all people--Tim who hasn't paid a dime since he moved in here seven MONTHS ago, Tim who I've been feeding and buying beer and smokes for, Tim who I drove all over creation til I no longer had a car, Tim who HIMSELF only lives here because I consider him a friend and I know in the long run he'll do what he can to pay me back--but she's asking HIM if she can stay here in MY house? The house of the person--not to harp on the point here, but c'mon--the house of the person whose methadone she just STOLE???

(Hey Squeaky--do the words HELL NO mean anything to you? No?? Okay then--how about HELL NO, BITCH?? Oh--you understood THAT part. Good. Just so we're clear.)

I should calm down a little, maybe. :)

So yeah--don't get me wrong, I have the utmost empathy for people afflicted with mental-health issues (especially since I'm one myself!) but THIS girl is a cat of an entirely different stripe. I think the best way to sum up the whole situation--from 19-year-old bimboslutness to methadone thievery, general rottenness, biting-the-hand-that-feeds and all the rest--is a two-word declarative, commonly used in such cases by my neighbors:

Bitch crazy.

Oh--but in other news? Tim and Nicolette have apparently reconciled. Which puts me in an awkward situation--I don't want to lie for Tim, and I totally don't approve of the way he was so quick to get with Squeaky while his relationship with Nicki was up in the air--but a) it's not my business; b) I would SO much rather see him with someone like Nicolette than with Squeaky; and c) I like Nicki better anyway. But I'm glad she's back, even if it might only be temporary--apparently her legal troubles in a nearby state are a little worse than she thought, and she may be stuck living there, for at least a while.

You know, not to seem overly settled or sedate or boring or anything...but seriously, all this drama? Not so much my bag, anymore. Maybe it's only fun when it's YOUR drama--I distinctly remember all my old-time escapades being exceptionally fun--but all these complications in the lives of those around me...well, they're getting a little old. I may just be feeling the rush of having a new job and new responsibilities, but all this Tim stuff just seems so high-school to me.

And oh, by the way, the job is going AWESOMELY. More about that soon.