Assignment: Analyze your living arrangements from the realist, liberal, and identity perspectives*
Thus far, my college life has been free of domestic squabbling. Roomie Dearest and I are like sisters separated from birth, and we have cooking adventures and nurse each other through food poisoning and put up cute decorations and watch NCIS together late into the night. Our single remaining suitemate owns a broom and would probably watch sci-fi with us if we asked her to. All in all, there are very few people I'd rather have to share a single toilet with than these chicks, and we are happy.
However. Cleaning is turning into an Issue.
This is not the fault of any one person. In fact, we've got quite a head start on most living arrangements - we're all fairly neat people to begin with, and not one of us grudges having to keep our living space presentable. But. The degree to which we enjoy our respective cleanliness, and our willingness to provide it to the other two, might soon turn into something like the collective goods dilemma we're studying in foreign relations if we do not hold some kind of Summit on the subject within the week.
On the big things, we all agree - namely, that Mold Should Not Grow On Things, People Should Be Able To Walk Across The Floor Unimpeded, and Stuff Should Generally Not Smell Offensive. But the little things are more contentious and not easy to bring up. For example, I personally believe that anything that could possibly have traces of fecal matter on it should be thoroughly cleaned once a week, as should anything that people regularly spit into. Suitemate seems to believe this also, but is unwilling to touch anything that could possibly have traces of fecal matter on it. And I think Roomie Dearest believes that hard, non-porous surfaces can't actually get dirty, or that we have a legion of crimson-and-cream fairies behind the wardrobe that scrubs them when no one's around to see.
There are other small problems of that nature, but what it comes down to is that of three of us, only one possesses the ability to plunge a toilet, only two have the mental constitution to clean said toilet, and of those two, one is not aware which end of a sponge is up. Hence: Issues.
Now, we are all very busy people, which is one reason things don't get cleaned; but we are also all mature adults, and if we work out these issues now, they will not become a metaphorical security dilemma and we can all live in relative comfort and cleanliness together, like the European Union of cheerful suitemate agreements, and we'll have a common currency and lower our tariffs and share our nachos and it'll all be wonderful.
What do you think of this list of rules? I think it covers all bases. Should I bring it before the Summit?
RULE ONE: If you throw up on or in it, it is yours to clean. No exceptions.
RULE TWO: If it is full, empty it.
RULE THREE: If it is rotting, dispose of it.
RULE FOUR: If it is not the color it was originally intended to be, for god's sake scrub it until it is.
RULE FIVE: If it is in the way, move it.
RULE SIX: If it has been ten days since the last time it was emptied/dusted/scrubbed/swept/mopped/polished, assume that you need to clean it.
Anything vital I'm forgetting? Will they ratify my Constitution?
*Disclaimer: Not an actual assignment
However. Cleaning is turning into an Issue.
This is not the fault of any one person. In fact, we've got quite a head start on most living arrangements - we're all fairly neat people to begin with, and not one of us grudges having to keep our living space presentable. But. The degree to which we enjoy our respective cleanliness, and our willingness to provide it to the other two, might soon turn into something like the collective goods dilemma we're studying in foreign relations if we do not hold some kind of Summit on the subject within the week.
On the big things, we all agree - namely, that Mold Should Not Grow On Things, People Should Be Able To Walk Across The Floor Unimpeded, and Stuff Should Generally Not Smell Offensive. But the little things are more contentious and not easy to bring up. For example, I personally believe that anything that could possibly have traces of fecal matter on it should be thoroughly cleaned once a week, as should anything that people regularly spit into. Suitemate seems to believe this also, but is unwilling to touch anything that could possibly have traces of fecal matter on it. And I think Roomie Dearest believes that hard, non-porous surfaces can't actually get dirty, or that we have a legion of crimson-and-cream fairies behind the wardrobe that scrubs them when no one's around to see.
There are other small problems of that nature, but what it comes down to is that of three of us, only one possesses the ability to plunge a toilet, only two have the mental constitution to clean said toilet, and of those two, one is not aware which end of a sponge is up. Hence: Issues.
Now, we are all very busy people, which is one reason things don't get cleaned; but we are also all mature adults, and if we work out these issues now, they will not become a metaphorical security dilemma and we can all live in relative comfort and cleanliness together, like the European Union of cheerful suitemate agreements, and we'll have a common currency and lower our tariffs and share our nachos and it'll all be wonderful.
What do you think of this list of rules? I think it covers all bases. Should I bring it before the Summit?
RULE ONE: If you throw up on or in it, it is yours to clean. No exceptions.
RULE TWO: If it is full, empty it.
RULE THREE: If it is rotting, dispose of it.
RULE FOUR: If it is not the color it was originally intended to be, for god's sake scrub it until it is.
RULE FIVE: If it is in the way, move it.
RULE SIX: If it has been ten days since the last time it was emptied/dusted/scrubbed/swept/mopped/polished, assume that you need to clean it.
Anything vital I'm forgetting? Will they ratify my Constitution?
*Disclaimer: Not an actual assignment