So. Done. ARGLEASIUAJLEKWRFJSLFGNDFS.
I ask, on Friday, if I can borrow the car for all of today. I repeat this query on Monday.
On Friday it is not a problem.
On Monday it causes complications. So I get it for the morning and for dancing. I can deal with that.
I ask, as I know that Jean and Sarah need the car for part of their moving, whether I should drop the car off at DK.
I'm told no, of course not, just park it in the lot.
Once it is parked, I get a phone call asking me to bring it back to DK.
I do this.
And when I finally track Sarah down to give her the key?
Our room is completely (and I mean completely) covered in her JUNK. No, I was not 'this space is mine, that space is yours' last year. And I've only really been passively moving stuff this year. BUT WHEN I CLEAN OFF A SURFACE, on top of my DRESSER, on top of my DESK, on top of my BED?! It's there for me to put stuff on, or, God forbid, to actually keep as empty space. NOT FOR YOU.
(There was stuff all over my side of the room Monday as well, and I left the room telling her that I'd like to have my half of the room back when I returned, please. It was (almost) all gone when I got back.)
I'm not okay with this. At all.
I cannot wait for my single. Without a screeching alarm clock. Being able to turn on the light when I get in, or turn it off when I'm going to bed, without feeling guilty or wanting to be a nice person. To play music without headphones. To not have to feel guilty for shouting her down in the hallway.
HOW IS IT THAT I CAN PACK, AND THINGS BECOME MORE ORGANIZED, BUT SHE PACKS AND THINGS EXPLODE?!?
On Friday it is not a problem.
On Monday it causes complications. So I get it for the morning and for dancing. I can deal with that.
I ask, as I know that Jean and Sarah need the car for part of their moving, whether I should drop the car off at DK.
I'm told no, of course not, just park it in the lot.
Once it is parked, I get a phone call asking me to bring it back to DK.
I do this.
And when I finally track Sarah down to give her the key?
Our room is completely (and I mean completely) covered in her JUNK. No, I was not 'this space is mine, that space is yours' last year. And I've only really been passively moving stuff this year. BUT WHEN I CLEAN OFF A SURFACE, on top of my DRESSER, on top of my DESK, on top of my BED?! It's there for me to put stuff on, or, God forbid, to actually keep as empty space. NOT FOR YOU.
(There was stuff all over my side of the room Monday as well, and I left the room telling her that I'd like to have my half of the room back when I returned, please. It was (almost) all gone when I got back.)
I'm not okay with this. At all.
I cannot wait for my single. Without a screeching alarm clock. Being able to turn on the light when I get in, or turn it off when I'm going to bed, without feeling guilty or wanting to be a nice person. To play music without headphones. To not have to feel guilty for shouting her down in the hallway.
HOW IS IT THAT I CAN PACK, AND THINGS BECOME MORE ORGANIZED, BUT SHE PACKS AND THINGS EXPLODE?!?