11-25-00
(continued)
I am not a huge meat eater, and I actually prefer veggie stews and lasagnas, but if I didn't put visible meat in everything I cooked, Katie would wolf it down.
I remember walking in on her using my previously-unopened container of sour cream in some potatoes she was cooking. I called her on it, and realized as she began to eat the remaining sour cream from the container with a spoon, mumbling something about having to use it all before it spoiled, that she was so drunk that she probably didn't know who I was, much less who owned the sour cream.
On more than one occasion, I found her passed out on the kitchen floor, semi-leaning against a cabinet, legs all akimbo, with a forkful of some food substance clenched in one hand, it's contents now scattered across the floor by her legs, and the full pan or bowl or plate of food resting loosely on her lap or pinning her other hand down to the floor under it's weight.
A couple of months into this uncomfortable living situation, I was spending almost as much time at Jeffrey's as I was at home, possibly more. In between heists*, Katie's twin Erin decided to stage an intervention of sorts. She yelled and screamed at Katie, telling her that she was ruining her life and was hurting everyone that cared about her, and it was time to either choose the alcohol or her sister's love. Katie snatched the beer can Erin was waving around as her alcohol prop out of her hands and stomped off to her room, guzzling it as she retreated. Erin followed her, crying loudly in hurt and frustration.
Something happened that night because Katie cleaned up for a while. She got a job and worked harder in school, and even proposed that she, Erin, Melissa and Heatha all go to Amsterdam over Spring Break. This idea was gladly received and plans were made...
*Remember, she's a klepto.
