Living in close quarters with strangers requires tolerance and diplomacy. Right now I'm practicing tolerance for a too loud TV program on the Lifetime channel, or some similarly brain-eating channel, blaring obsecene language amid the topic of cheating spouses, how, when and where. I feel embarrassed because my daddy is huddled under the covers on one of the make-down recliners and I imagine he's probably still awake (because who the hell could sleep with this racket going on?) and listening. Such subjects weren't discussed when I was growing up and I've never heard my daddy say a curse word in my life so these things tend to make me squirm when around him. The "official" lights out is 10:30 and it's just 9:45 so, by rights, I can't ask her to turn the TV off. But, really, how clueless can one be to not realize they're imposing their (questionable) TV choice on the other three people in the room (two of which are over 75, for crying out loud.) Ah, as I'm writing this she finally turns the sound down. Maybe the talk of child molestation and pedophelia finally penetrated her boob-tube fog enough to provoke a reaction. Or maybe it's diplomacy kicking in. Yeah, I'll give her that. After all, she has a loved one in SICU too. We all cope in our own ways.
It's a good thing.
But it doesn't mean you can't still bitch. :)