A Fine Line Between Homicidal Mania and Donna Reed....
Here in the house that I share with Jason and the roomates Ted and Mary, I don't really have to pay bills. Since it's actually Jason's place, he told me that as long as I keep house and clean and such, he's content. He would rather 'have an apartment that is livable than save $200 a month'. I don't really have any problem cleaning up after Jason. I know it may sound kind of odd, but I sort of like it. It's nice to do things when there is actually someone to do them for. It's much more satisfying.
I buy all the groceries, sure, because no matter what he says, I feel as though I should be contributing monitarily in some way. Not to mention, if I didn't the house would be stacked full of ramen, mac 'n cheese and soda. Since I cook, I know what I need and can get it. No big deal.
As I've said, I actually like doing all of this for Jason. And that's just it - I _only_ like doing it for Jason.
I don't know what it is about me and roomates, but now here's another set who are driving me mad.
Celendra's Roomate Pet Peeves:
1. Stop eating all of my freakin' food! Once, every three or four months, you give Jason $10 for groceries. I spend at least $150 a month on groceries and yet you still feel as though it is okay to always eat all of the waffles I buy for Jason, use _packs_ worth of my cigarettes and generally poke around in whatever I happen to be cooking. When I cook, it is for Jason and I. If I'm feeling particularly generous, or if I accidently made too much, then you may have some. Otherwise, _buy your own_! And no, buying ramen and a watermelon and then saying "but you can eat all of _our_ stuff that you want!" doesn't cut it.
2. Do your own dishes. Or, if you can't do that, at _least_ scrape them out before you put them in the sink. Or maybe I should just be grateful that you _got_ them to the sink. That I didn't have to go into your room, for the 40th time and get your cups and plates from two weeks ago, covered in mold and mildew and seven other disguisting fungi. Well, I'm not. And no, once again, doing all of the dishes, one day every two months and then expecting to be petted and praised for two hours does _not_ count.
3. Stop leaving wet towels all over the bathroom floor. What are you, two? Three? You dry off before you get out of the shower, so that you don't leave Lake Michigan on the floor and then you _hang_ your towels up so that they dry and don't smell like mildew! It's not that hard.
4. Stop playing the 'when are we moving?' game! First (in June) you were moving 'in a few months'. Then you weren't moving. Then you were definately moving in September. Not your not moving again because you can't afford it. Could the $3,000 worth of recording equipment you've bought in the last two months have anything to do with why you can't afford to move? Hmmmm? *muffled scream* Just _move_. Go away! Jason and I can afford this place on our own. We had made all sorts of plans about what to do with the spare bedroom. And now you've changed your mind. You aren't moving. Again.
And because Ted is one of Jason's best friends, I'll feel like a bitchy little GirlFriendenstien if I bring this up in any major way. So I drop hints. Subtle....tiny....hints.
I'm still vacuuming with pearls on. It's just sometimes I'm picturing the vacuum as a weedwacker.
I buy all the groceries, sure, because no matter what he says, I feel as though I should be contributing monitarily in some way. Not to mention, if I didn't the house would be stacked full of ramen, mac 'n cheese and soda. Since I cook, I know what I need and can get it. No big deal.
As I've said, I actually like doing all of this for Jason. And that's just it - I _only_ like doing it for Jason.
I don't know what it is about me and roomates, but now here's another set who are driving me mad.
Celendra's Roomate Pet Peeves:
1. Stop eating all of my freakin' food! Once, every three or four months, you give Jason $10 for groceries. I spend at least $150 a month on groceries and yet you still feel as though it is okay to always eat all of the waffles I buy for Jason, use _packs_ worth of my cigarettes and generally poke around in whatever I happen to be cooking. When I cook, it is for Jason and I. If I'm feeling particularly generous, or if I accidently made too much, then you may have some. Otherwise, _buy your own_! And no, buying ramen and a watermelon and then saying "but you can eat all of _our_ stuff that you want!" doesn't cut it.
2. Do your own dishes. Or, if you can't do that, at _least_ scrape them out before you put them in the sink. Or maybe I should just be grateful that you _got_ them to the sink. That I didn't have to go into your room, for the 40th time and get your cups and plates from two weeks ago, covered in mold and mildew and seven other disguisting fungi. Well, I'm not. And no, once again, doing all of the dishes, one day every two months and then expecting to be petted and praised for two hours does _not_ count.
3. Stop leaving wet towels all over the bathroom floor. What are you, two? Three? You dry off before you get out of the shower, so that you don't leave Lake Michigan on the floor and then you _hang_ your towels up so that they dry and don't smell like mildew! It's not that hard.
4. Stop playing the 'when are we moving?' game! First (in June) you were moving 'in a few months'. Then you weren't moving. Then you were definately moving in September. Not your not moving again because you can't afford it. Could the $3,000 worth of recording equipment you've bought in the last two months have anything to do with why you can't afford to move? Hmmmm? *muffled scream* Just _move_. Go away! Jason and I can afford this place on our own. We had made all sorts of plans about what to do with the spare bedroom. And now you've changed your mind. You aren't moving. Again.
And because Ted is one of Jason's best friends, I'll feel like a bitchy little GirlFriendenstien if I bring this up in any major way. So I drop hints. Subtle....tiny....hints.
I'm still vacuuming with pearls on. It's just sometimes I'm picturing the vacuum as a weedwacker.