Sunday, March 30, 2025

Staining the Gazebo [1. Narcissistic Entitlement]

I had just finished showering in "my" bathroom inside the Cabin-Mansion one

summer morning.  Dr. MiNarc fervidly pounded on the bathroom door as I was 

standing naked in front of the mirror brushing my unusually long (for me) hair 

into a pony-tail.  I thought she was going to walk right in, and nervously tried to

remember if I had locked the door.  "Just a minute!" I called, feverishly pulling 

some clothes on. Dressed in my shorty cheer shorts and a purple tank, I opened 

the door a crack. 


Dr. MiNarc was visibly excited and said, "I have a job for you."  A concerned look 

must have crossed my face as I thought of the many jobs Dr. MiNarc had me doing 

as of late.  I "got" to help put up fencing in the front yard, shoveled rock from a 

large pile in the driveway to various locations--always a distance away, raked 

leaves out of rock-work and gardens in the side-yard, and helped with endless 

watering.  The list of outside maintenance and yard-work was endless, and I felt 

I had no interest in it or aptitude for it. 










"Don't worry, it's a FUN job," she emphasized the word, "fun" to really sell the 

idea.  Thinking her version of fun was vastly different from mine, I inquired what 

the job entailed.  She told me it was mindless work and I would like it as she led 

me outside to "my" side-yard.  Though I was a guest and living in a fifth wheel in 

the yard, MiNarc gave me the use of a few places in and around the 

Cabin-Mansion.  She led me to the gazebo in the side yard, and said it needed

staining.








The gazebo was round and tall, and had many crisscrossed patterned pieces of 

wood around the circumference.  The stain was in paint buckets that stood as 

high as my knees--two, maybe four full buckets.  The job looked daunting, to say 

the least.  The weather WAS beautiful--maybe I could work on my tan at the same 

time.  After all, I sort of owed Dr. MiNarc for so generously giving me a free place to

live and for hiring me back at work.  I was not paying her back in any way, and I 

couldn't offer my exceptional cleaning skills, because they had a house-keeper 

that came twice weekly.  The least I could do was help out around the yard. 






This is pathological entitlement, and it's one of the diagnostic traits for NPD.


Series continued in next post




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