lundi 30 mars 2009

roomate and her boyfriend

So...even though I'm a pretty mean person, and I'm pretty sure I scare a lot of the people that I interact with (but don't care about) sometimes, I have a problem with being vocal about my negative feelings for them. This usually only applies to habitual actions, 'cause I feel like voicing the same negative thoughts over and over again is nagging, and I hate nagging (received or given). So a lot of things have piled up over the course of these past few months about my roommate and her boyfriend.

1) He's a very messy person and I've roomed with her before (and didn't have a problem) so most of the mess, I think, is his. I observe this after coming back from christmas break, and I confirmed that I was right. His clothes, his tennis bag, his papers and books dominate hers, even though she throws that around, too. Today, I woke up and looked down at the floor, it was HORRENDOUS. I mean, the messed had started to come over to my side of the room. I was grumpy. They left for dinner with her sister, and I kicked their crap over to her side, took a shower and straightened up the crap on the couch ('cause it's the common area, which I use). I straightened up my side as well, since I've been letting the state of my side go for the past few days.

2) I showered, but when I got back I couldn't find my clothes, and then remembered that we (being me and my roommate) washed our (being mine, hers AND his) together and the whites were still together from me having to re-dry them (due to his and her lack of ability to feel that the clothes were damp). Seeing as how my clothes were outnumbered by theirs in the whites department, I proceeded to dig it out in order to get dressed. After spending 10 minutes on that task with fruitless results, I decided that for the SECOND time, I would organize (fold) their clothes in order to rescue mine. He doesn't even wash his own clothes, for God's sakes, at least he can fold it (or even she can, 'cause I frankly don't care).

3) We divided (roommate and I) the dishes and the trash since I hate trash and she hates dishes. Well, I've been washing it whenever the bin gets full or whenever I run out of dishes (I have less than hers, so I run out more quickly). I can't say that she's been doing the same for trash. And after having to take 2 bags of trash out last time, in all fairness, she should be washing the dishes tomorrow. I'm not going to make her do that, though.

4) He eats out food. Plain and simple. He eats over here, which I don't mine, but he doesn't cook, doesn't wash dishes, and he eats A LOT. Worst example was when I left class in a hurry and didn't get to eat expecting to come back to some rice. I knew they'd eat, but we had about 1.5-2 cups left (out of 4 cups total) and somehow, he managed to get so much that I had 1/3 of one of my bowls (which is smaller than the bowl they used) left. Nice. It then went into feeding me and Tracy. Yeah. Ugh. Disgusting and inconsiderate.

5) Recycling is ALWAYS full. They're supposed to take that out when it's full; it goes along with trash duty. Enough said.

6) He takes my water. I have a pack of bottled water that is supposed to last me for two or three weeks. Last time I went through 6 packs of bottled water (24 per pack) 'cause they keep taking bottles of water. They use nalgene bottles, so they refill from the fountain. It's not because they hate fountain water here; they take my water 'cause they were TOO LAZY TO GO TO THE FOUNTAIN DOWN THE HALL. Really? Like, REALLY?

7) He uses my computer. Why? 'Cause for some reason that we have not yet figured out ('cause he's too lazy to go get a ResNET to look at it), his laptop is REALLY slow and takes "too long to start up". Plops down, takes my computer. It's not that much of a problem, but I feel like my privacy is being invaded and I don't appreciate that. I don't appreciate coming back to my computer being out of battery 'cause it was used and then not hibernated afterward. (The plug is on my side of the room, so to use it, he unplugs and takes it over to her bed)

8) She and I are a bit germophobic, and we don't like dirty things, especially on our beds. He comes back from tennis practice sometimes and she forbids him to sit on her bed, so he sits on mine. WTF. WTF, Travis? He doesn't do it every time, though, so that's good. Sometimes, it won't be right after practice, but he still hasn't showered, and he comes in later and sits on my bed, claiming that "he's not sweaty". BAH. Still dirty!

9) When he does sit on my bed, he plops down on anything that's on it, like my comforter, which I don't like people to do. One time, he even sits on it with his socks on! Dirty, smelly socks that left a vague odor after he stood up. Granted we were working on a lab together 'cause we're lab partners, but still...have some decency, man! That same occasion, he was leaning against my pillow, 'cause I let him borrow it since leaning against the wall is a bitch, he farted! FARTED! IT'S MY FUCKING PILLOW, DAMMIT! He laughs it off, saying it's ok. *I* don't even fart on my pillow!

10) When he sits down on my bed oftentimes to tie his shoe ('cause he can use the metal ledge from my bed to prop his foot--understandable), he doesn't care about the fact that his show is stepping on the sheets that are a bit loosely fitted around the side of the mattress. Granted it's not a part that I lie on or breathe, but that's just disgusting. Stacy did the same thing the other day (touch/step on the sheets) when the bottom of her pant legs were wet from the rain. It left damp (DIRTY) marks on the side of my bed, dangerously close to making it on the top surface of my bed. Teh funny part? Later, I hear her yelling at him for letting the pant legs (of the same pair of pants) touch her sheets. How rich. HOW FUCKING RICH.

11) I don't care much about this one anymore since I've stopped caring about being extra quiet when they're sleeping, but oftentimes, they'll walk into the room while I'm sleeping/napping and have no idea what the word "whisper" means. Sad part was I think they were trying to whisper. Not just that, things were dropped down/accidentally dropped to the floor (I think a backpack or papers or something), and music/videos were played (though on low volume). I ended up waking up, a bit grumpy, and they had no idea that my sleep was just rudely disrupted. Fuck everything to hell. I'm a light sleeper, and my roommate was supposed to know that. I think they bank it on the fact that they've come in before and I didn't hear them.

I'm just too angry, and I have stats hw to do. I think this is enough venting for tonight. God, they disgust me as a couple sometimes. I'm not THAT much of a neat freak, but at least I have the decency to think about watching myself for these things. Ugh. Fuck it all to hell.

2 commentaires:

Meg a dit…

A few things I'd like to point out:

1. In Number 10, you have a small typo. I think you mean "his shoe" not "his show."

2. It's a wonder anyone wants to live with you.

3. You should consider therapy.

4. Commenting on someone's blog to point out what an idiot/asshole you think they are is quite rude, n'est pas?

firewater a dit…

I'm not sure how this would make you feel, but you just amuse me so much....

So honest, which is good, and blunt--which is refreshing.