THE JOYS OF 218 HUNT
SO FOR MY ENGLISH CLASS- WE HAD TO WRITE A RANT PAPER, AND READ IT OUT LOUD IN CLASS... AND HERE IS MY GLORIOUS ESSAY... ABOUT MY OVERLY COOL ROOMMATE. ENJOY.
Is it really that hard to wash the dishes? Or what about taking out the trash is that too difficult for you too? And making your bed is obviously an impossible task for you. You are my roommate, and I’m really not a fan of living with you. You leave your dirty Kleenex’s all over the place; empty water bottles build up under your bed. You must be too pretty for vacuuming too. Cleaning the bathroom deserves more than a gold star for you. The one time you took out the garbage, and I didn’t congratulate you on all your hard work, you said to me with the highest hopes for a compliment, “I took out the garbage.” I couldn’t give you what you wanted, because it wasn’t a big deal, it’s something I do daily, and you didn’t deserve the props you were seeking. After three months of being here, you did the dishes for the first time; once again you were seeking a pat on the back. It took you days to put the clean ones away, because you figured I would do it for you. I vacuum once a week, and the majority of what is being sucked up, if your God damn hair that is on everything in our room, including all my clothes, towels, and bedding.
You won’t even give this school a chance. After three days of being here, you called your mom crying about how horrible it was here. You have no reason to hate it here, except for the fact that you miss your seven year old sister…more than your boyfriend. You won’t even try to make friends, not even with the people we live with, because they are boys, and you feel bad. You are far too anti-social to go to the marketplace by yourself; your mother feeds this problem by sending you here with pounds of microwavable meals. You were required to go to the plays at the theater, you refused to ask anyone in your class, so I went with you… and you made me pay for my damn ticket, when you’re the one who invited me, and asked me to go because you are incapable of going out in public by yourself.
Every college student goes through a time where they aren’t sure of a career. But you, you don’t want a career. You want a baby and a feather duster that is your dream. You want to be a mom and clean the house; it’s your greatest ambition. If all you ever wanted to do was clean, you’d think that you’d be more willing to clean the home you’re living in right now!
Two months ago you used 3,800 minutes on your cell phone (which is two and a half days). At least this past month you eased up and only used 2,300 (which is almost two full days). When you’re not on your annoying cell phone, you’re on your computer, talking to the people that you would normally be on the phone with. You live eight hours away and you go home every other weekend, sometimes more. When you come back from your weekend’s home, all I hear about for a week is your little sister’s soccer game, or how you left your bag of clothes in the kitchen for three days. These stories that you come back up here with are so tantalizing I can’t even stand it.
I know that you’re counting down the days till Christmas break, until you leave for good. But what you don’t know is that I’m counting down too, because I can’t wait to get rid of you.