November 5, 2014 by phicks2012
Rant Time? Well, with winter looming and my power bills threatening — probably destined — to rise as a result, I’ve begun having serious flashbacks involving past housemates whose notion of realistic power usage seemed to involve expending enough electricity to power a third world nation, and whose idea of economy did not exclude open windows, burning lights throughout the night, leaving gas bricks burning until the LP tank was drained, and leaving space heaters running full blast in unused rooms next to overflowing trash cans.
Regarding that last, by the way, while it’s true that fires do provide additional heat, it is also true that most bathrooms do not benefit from having them erupt. Also, there is really no excuse — even if you are a compusive night owl or even a vampire — for turning on every light in a house and leaving them burning all night every night, especially if you are not personally contributing to paying the power bills.
I believe I’ve said before that I do not plan, ever again, to take anyone into my home who cannot or will not contribute to paying the expenses. So, if you are indigent because you are lazy, thoughtless, irritating, or a borderline psychotic personality, and you need a place to live where you can continue to be lazy, thoughtless, irritating, and borderline psychotic, then please look elsewhere. Look for a place, hopefully, in another country — or audition for a bad reality show where drama and lack of consideration are welcomed plot devices. 😉
In any case, as you might now expect, the verse below was inspired by those folk who waste the resources of others, and it would please me — I’m such a bitch — if some of them actually read it.
Behold the wastrel, evening’s candle lit
As dawn approaches and the night is done,
And sparing not the taper, leaving it
To gutter there, it’s flicker serving none.
The fire burns bright upon a summer hearth
Where no spit turns, nor simmering pot awaits,
And tinder wanes as Luna sinks to earth,
And candles all are gone like squandered fates.
He offers not a penny’s recompense
Nor hatchet lifts the kindling to replace.
She leaves the meal to spoil, and insolence
Leaves marks of scorn upon a sullen face.
They that spare not to serve a later grace,
May they yet learn the consequence of waste.
[21 October, 2014]