(no subject)
So I officially moved out weekend before last, finally. It’s great to have some extra freedom, except last night. I was that pissed off and tired that all I could do is laugh. I laughed for a good half an hour. Sandra thought I was going crazy. What lead to that is as follows:
1. Getting told that Sandra’s mum took all my stuff out of a big box that was sitting downstairs and put it on my floor in my room.
2. Detouring to the doctors after work because I haven’t got a key cut yet.
3. Finding out that Sandra painted her fridge without taking it outside first or laying down plastic and now our kitchen floor is covered in paint.
4. Being asked if I want to take my clothes home from Sandra’s mothers house and dry them at home as she washed them (Yeah, waiting on our washing machine to come over still) after I asked her not to take them at all because I wanted to get them washed. Far enough, nice guesture but I polite declined the day before.
5. Finding out that she took every single piece of clothing/sheets/pillow cases/Jackets & Jumpers that need to be hand washed out of my room and washed them.
6. Sandra’s 16 year old brother come over last night and tried drilling another towel rack on the bathroom wall.
7. I found paint all over the back screen door.
8. 7:30pm and I find myself on my hands and knees trying to get the paint off the floor with turps.
9. Dying from fumes.
10. Lack of sleep the night before.
Need I say more?
If this kinda thing continues I can see myself regretting moving =/
1. Getting told that Sandra’s mum took all my stuff out of a big box that was sitting downstairs and put it on my floor in my room.
2. Detouring to the doctors after work because I haven’t got a key cut yet.
3. Finding out that Sandra painted her fridge without taking it outside first or laying down plastic and now our kitchen floor is covered in paint.
4. Being asked if I want to take my clothes home from Sandra’s mothers house and dry them at home as she washed them (Yeah, waiting on our washing machine to come over still) after I asked her not to take them at all because I wanted to get them washed. Far enough, nice guesture but I polite declined the day before.
5. Finding out that she took every single piece of clothing/sheets/pillow cases/Jackets & Jumpers that need to be hand washed out of my room and washed them.
6. Sandra’s 16 year old brother come over last night and tried drilling another towel rack on the bathroom wall.
7. I found paint all over the back screen door.
8. 7:30pm and I find myself on my hands and knees trying to get the paint off the floor with turps.
9. Dying from fumes.
10. Lack of sleep the night before.
Need I say more?
If this kinda thing continues I can see myself regretting moving =/