So, uh, hi. Long time no see. I'm still an overweight nutcase, just a little lighter now. Went down a pants size, which I'm proud of even though the weight was lost in a non-healthy way (thanks, poverty). I originally wasn't ever planning to write anything about the subject of this story because I thought she was a nice person who just happened to be really fat. I was very wrong.

So, backstory:

Georgia has been a PCA working for my grandmother for a long while. We've had a... cordial working relationship (we work for the same company and she brings me paperwork and such needed from the office because I can't drive). Recently, she had one of her dogs sire a litter of puppies. Expensive, purebred (I'm talking 1200 dollar doggos- the average is 1400$ a puppy) puppies.

I have some mental health problems (which is no secret- if you ask I will answer, because I actively believe that discussing it will always help lessen the taboo around it) and I wish to self-train (well, mostly, I will have the assistance of a retired dog trainer for a couple things) a psychiatric service dog. I agreed to tutor Georgia's daughter in exchange for a puppy. I've been doing it for a little over four months now, and I was rewarded with getting pick of the litter. Say hello to Mercy.

And now, the meat of the issue:

In the four months I've spent in Georgia's home (from 5 to 9pm, every Monday to Friday) I've come to learn many things about her, and have several of my suspicions confirmed.

So let's start here: Georgia can't cook for shit. She's probably 5'5 and 400lbs, yet this woman cannot cook a baked potato. Seriously.

She made some once by slathering an obnoxious amount of butter in tinfoil and wrapping the potatoes up. They weren't even cooked by the time they came out of the oven. She served me a god damn raw potato. That's just the tip of the iceberg of her cooking catastrophes. She makes gravy by combining flour with hamburger grease and attempting to make it into a roux (it just makes a disgusting greasy paste). Ironically, the three people she lives with (her husband, her daughter, and a relative) are all rail thin and that doesn't surprise me after tasting the slop she serves. She doesn't even season her food- no salt, no pepper, no garlic, no nothing! And she willingly eats her own food every night with an egregious amount of salt (and sour cream- she puts sour cream on/in everything. It's disgusting and literally makes me sick because I'm lactose intolerant).

I could go on for days about the garbage she's cooked and I've had to eat because I'm unflinchingly polite no matter what (it's a horrible flaw to have). And it's impossible not to eat because if you don't make a plate within 5 milliseconds of the food being cooked she will make you a plate and bring it over. And watch you eat it.

I could also put it like this, and I don't say this lightly: her cooking is worse than one-hundred September 11ths. If I had the choice between shooting myself and eating dinner with her I would paint her walls with my brains.

Georgia likes to pretend all she eats is salad (and don't get me wrong I have seen her eat salads before, but it's always followed up with a “sneaky” snack for herself or a fattening beverage) but her figure betrays her. She is, and I don't even like admitting it because I feel mean, one of the fattest people I've met in my life. She waddles and constantly complains of pain (presumably because of her size) and insists that she's a natural health guru (she talks about natural and organic foods almost constantly and everything on her Facebook page is either weird hipster food or feel-good mom posts).

She also seems to consider herself to be some kind of eternal wealth of knowledge- if you have a question she will answer, and more often than not it will be dead wrong. I would, charitably, compare her intelligence to a small rock. She once told me that she thinks pork doesn't have to be perfectly cooked and is acceptable "rare". Urgh.

If you were to call my grandmother on the phone and Georgia happened to be her PCA for that day you basically can't even talk normally because Georgia will insert herself in the conversation and constantly babble to my grandmother (and cause her to lose track of what she was talking about/thinking). Georgia loves being the center of attention like that. It's obnoxious.

As I previously mentioned, Georgia brings me paperwork from my employer. She also takes it into the office after I've filled it out. Part of my job is filling out a sheet every week to mark down what I've done for my client, as well as fill out a comment card style paper to record medical appointments, falls/ER trips (if applicable- and you also have to call the office to say that these incidents happened), and general comments on how the client has been doing.

She doesn't only do this for me- she does it for two to four other people... and she reads every single piece of paperwork that she takes in. Which is not only a violation of office policies, but it's also just none of her fucking business. If you have business, she will try to stick her nose in it.

As of late, she's also begun abusing the kindness of others (namely myself and my mother). When I'm at Georgia's house, she doesn't care enough to watch food when it's cooking so I have to (her child and relative are unable to cook, her husband works until late). I've saved her rice from burning and her noodles from overboiling many times without even a thank you in return. And she claims to have a severe smoke allergy (she loves talking about how her migraines are so awful, and yet she's never complained about her husband smoking in the house, or the smoke from the wood stove.... hmm...) so I have to stoke the fire too (her relative doesn't know how, and her child doesn't either). She knows I'm kind to a fault, and seemingly orchestrates it so I always wind up doing these things.

My mother has also unofficially filled in for her at work many times, without pay. Or a thank you.

Why do we do this?

Because we're nice. Too nice. Also, my mother only does it for my grandmother's sake. We've tried not doing it but we're just not wired that way. I know we probably seem “beta” or something for that, but oh well. We're just like that- quiet country mice. Yeah, we've gotten fucked over before because of it. Sue us. But I'm digressing.

The last flaw here is that Georgia is some combination of misguided and burnt out at this point. She's spent so long being a PCA that she treats everyone like a client (or... well... more accurately like a child, with her strange condescending intonations and faux-compliments). She also tries to mother everyone- even other adults like myself (she refuses to stop patting my shoulders and ruffling my hair even though I've requested she stop many times). And she lies to get out of work often (making my mother fill in by claiming appointments are scheduled for a family member or somesuch on any given day but her car(s) will be in her driveway all day and nobody will leave her home). She has a rampant sense of entitlement as well- I've seen her (a grown woman, 50 years old) throw temper tantrums because she couldn't get something her way.

Oh, and everybody else in her house can only have one snack per day but she has free reign of the whole kitchen 24/7. It's unfair as fuck and grates on my nerves when I remember.

Also, it's petty of me but she wears those long fake french tipped nails and I hate those damn things. They're tacky and gross (on her, anyway).

So, yeah, this has been the ranting hour. Thanks for reading. Love you guys. As soon as Mercy is 8 weeks old I'm going to blast out of the tutoring gig so fast my feet will leave skid marks.