(no subject)
I just wrote the following in an email to my mother. I'm not sure why, but it amuses me slightly, so I am posting it here.
In the mean time, I am currently irrationally angry because I spent about an hour and a half doing Nathan's dishes yesterday and the sink is once again filled with Nathan's dishes. I wanted to cook beans and rice tonight. I am not going to cook beans and rice tonight unless someone does the dishes first. The dishes from the delicous indian meal i prepared last night are all done, all except for the dish off of which Maura ate because she failed to bring it to the kitchen. If I don't get some fucking tidier fucking roommates, I am going to have a completely stupid and irrational outburst against them, projecting all the negative feelings I have toward myself and the world onto the mere problem of the dishes and then taking out all that projected anger on them. But maybe I will just sit back and remember that they are in fact merely dishes and that I can probably cook in a kitchen that has a few dirty dishes in it. Or maybe I should just move back to my parent's house, where at least there would be three people doing the dishes and not just one. That is 100% of occupants doing dishes, which is a stark contrast to the mere 20% of people who do dishes around here. Fuck my life.
In the mean time, I am currently irrationally angry because I spent about an hour and a half doing Nathan's dishes yesterday and the sink is once again filled with Nathan's dishes. I wanted to cook beans and rice tonight. I am not going to cook beans and rice tonight unless someone does the dishes first. The dishes from the delicous indian meal i prepared last night are all done, all except for the dish off of which Maura ate because she failed to bring it to the kitchen. If I don't get some fucking tidier fucking roommates, I am going to have a completely stupid and irrational outburst against them, projecting all the negative feelings I have toward myself and the world onto the mere problem of the dishes and then taking out all that projected anger on them. But maybe I will just sit back and remember that they are in fact merely dishes and that I can probably cook in a kitchen that has a few dirty dishes in it. Or maybe I should just move back to my parent's house, where at least there would be three people doing the dishes and not just one. That is 100% of occupants doing dishes, which is a stark contrast to the mere 20% of people who do dishes around here. Fuck my life.