~Brunch~ with Rube Jr yesterday. She's living with her father again within the past week because her roommates suddenly broke their lease without consulting/informing her and she had to jump. 

"My dad is so much FUN," she said while we perused the menu. 

"What, really?" I said.

"NO." 

(I thought maybe he was back on meds for a second.) 

She told me about how a couple of days ago she and the other library assistant tackled another restroom overdose and how she was holding this guy's head in her lap and then the paramedics narcaned him. 

(We saw him crossing the street later as I was on my way to dropping her off. "Oh there's that patron I was telling you about. It's good he's up and around I guess.") 

"So I'm thinking about how this had happened at work," she continued, "And he's spending an hour ranting about what's going on with the wifi. Does not ask me about my day." 

"Yeah. I'm sorry. And if you tell him about your day he won't remember any of it. I drank a lot when you were little. But I'm not recommending that." 

She laughed. "I think about you when he's unloading on me. His problems in his cushy tech job." 

"Yep, the daily download. So boring."

So far he is mad at her for using the curbside trash can, which she did not fill up after her move and there's plenty of room in because he takes his trash to work with him to throw out. Again, he is not using this city service that he pays for but chooses instead to bicycle trash to his job every day.

He is also throwing her clean laundry on the floor instead of transferring it to a basket. Living with him is like living with a bad roommate who hates you. 

I hope he carks it on one of his trash bicycle safaris and she inherits his house.