Crunchy Fish Eyes

I stood there slightly incredulous. So, Mr. crazy had told me to tell him no. Then let him do what he wanted anyway. I should have been alarmed, but I still hadn't slept in over 24 hours, so I managed to just shrug it off.
By this time there were at least 5 adult couples and 10 kids running around their house. It was 10 pm and dinner seemed to be about ready.
I must have looked pretty bad. I was still wearing a gross skirt and shirt from earlier. I slumped onto a stool and waited to be told what to do.
Mr. Crazy came over. Mr. Crazy looks like, ugh, he looks like someone but i forgot. Well, really he looks like a cartoon of a Greek father. Black and gray hair and beard, and a pretty prominent belly that is rarely covered by a shirt. He's also very animated, talking loudly to eveyone. And he seemed rather nice and caring and in control. This was all my first impression.
Mr. Crazy must have realized that I looked dead because he came running over, flailing and yelling at me, "Oh, you must be so tired! You eat! Eat something! And then go rest!"
I stared blankly at him, then at the food, then back at him, unsure of what I was allowed to do.
"Here! You come eat!"
He grabbed a bowl and shoveled something into it, topping it with lettuce and cucumbers before shoving it into my hands. I stared down at it and saw a bunch of tiny fried fish. Fish the size of my pinky complete with tails and mouths and eyeballs staring at me, covered by a thin coating of fried oil.
G, the housekeeper, who had tried to be as helpful as she could since I got there was flitting aroun nearby.
I sidled up right next to her and whispered, "Am I just supposed to eat the whole thing?"
She looked at me, and laughed, but in a good way, "Yes, you eat the whole thing."
So I sat back on the stool, and shut my eyes and began shoveling in the tiny fish. It wasn't that they were bad, they tasted like fried fish, it was that they crunched in your mouth and you could tell you were biting down on tail, or chewing the fish body in half or yick. I also shoved as many pieces of lettuce, one of my least favorite vegetables, in before I discreetly made my way to the garbage can to get rid of any leftover evidence.
I grabbed Mr. Crazy as he ran through the kitchen, "Would it be alright if I went to bed now?"
"Yes, yes of course."
"And tomorrow morning, is there a certain time I should be here?"
"I think maybe 8? 8:30 or 9. Anytime you wish."
And he was gone. There was a pretty substantial gap of time between 8 and 9. And the time I wished would probably be closer to noon. But I grabbed the key to my little bungalow from the box they insisted I keep it in their house, I guess in case they wanted to go over and check on things, and went to my house.
I want to take another shower before I go to sleep, but I realize that I have no idea where the light switch is. Or how to flush the toilet. After hunting for a light switch for about 10 minutes, I give up and take a shower in the dark.
Then I go back to my room, take a melatonin, and try to sleep.