currently residing in my car are two tubs of wintery clothes

I get cold so easily that this is like porn to me. Ahhhhh snuggly winter clothes.

Good luck on the all-nighter. I'm-a brew a pot o' coffee myself.

Oh, Spidra, that sounds so sucky. I wish you much zen over the next couple of months as they finish up.

I'm gonna bitch. This is your warning.

I get up this morning and come out to make coffee, and what do I find in the sink? About 5 dishes and a bunch of silverware of Not!Emily's that he must not have felt like washing when he did dishes last night. They're all lying in the stoneware that I had soaking. Now, there was TOTALLY room in the dish rack for him to finish these dishes. I have no idea why he didn't do them, except that he got lazy.

Then, I start making the coffee, and I go over to the trash to dump the grinds. The trash is MEGA full, which pisses me off, because I seem to be the only person that manages to empty the trash, and right on top I see my big container of Clorox wipes thrown out...meaning they're gone. Now, I bought one of the extra huge ones that holds like 120 wipes about a month ago. That should have lasted us for several months. We mostly use it to clean up after the pets when they puke or have accidents or whatever, which isn't very often. They must be using these a ton to have gone through them that quickly. I knew they used them once to clean the bathroom (HOW well, exactly, can you clean a bathroom with Clorox wipes?), but didn't realize they were using them so frequently. So, now we're out. I'm tempted to go buy some and hide them in my room, so they won't use them. There are rags and CLEANING supplies for the bathroom and kitchen counters and whatnot. Ugh.

Then I go to feed the dog. His food is surrounded by all of the recycling that needs to be taken out. Now, recycling is Not!Emily's ONE chore in the house (besides doing his own dishes). We had a meeting and everything...it was decided that I would take care of taking the trash out, but he would take care of the recycling. I don't know when the last time he actually took it down was. He's maybe taken it down twice since he moved in. So, it's so full right now that we have a pile of stuff that needs to go in it sitting by the door to the balcony. Not the most attractive thing.

I am SO over living with people (Emily excluded...she's still people, but we work things out pretty easily). I'm tempted to take the recycling and his dirty dishes into his precious clean room while he's gone today and plop them on the bed. But, that would cause tension and confrontation. And we have to live together for another 4.5 months. So, I won't. BUT, I will not be doing his dishes. They can sit there till kingdom come, for all I care. He can bitch and moan and say they're not his, and I'll smile and say, "But they are, and they'll be there till you wash them."

And, maybe it's time to leave a nasty note about the recycling, since that seems to be the way he likes to work. Yeah. That's what I'll do. I'll leave him a sticky note on his door before I go to dinner tomorrow night, "reminding" him that it is trash/recycling night.

He's nice. His girlfriend is nice. But, it seems to me that he likes to live with women so he'll be taken care of. Sorry, buddy. Those days are over.

Oh, yesterday I picked up some toilet paper and paper towels at the grocery store, because we were running low (I usually buy them in bulk, but since I don't have a car anymore that's more difficult). I was doing grocery shopping with my Old Lady Cart, so I could only carry so much. So, I bought a six-pack of TP and two rolls of PT. I warned Emily that the six rolls of TP in the bathroom were it. If they started getting low this weekend, someone would have to run to CVS and buy more. I'd try to get a big pack of them when I get back from NY. But, I'm just envisioning Not!Emily coming out of the bathroom looking for TP and then being furious because there is no more. Dude. You have no right to get upset when suddenly there is no TP. It's not like you buy it, or really ever offer to chip in on it, so, go buy some freaking TP.

Oh, and while you're at it, replace my Clorox wipes, some coffee cream, and DO YOUR DISHES.

Ahem.

Man, do I sympathize with your situation, vw. You go through so much already so having a bad roommate on top of it is teh suxor. I've never been able to come up with a good solution for situations like that, which is why I've bounced between having housemates and living alone for a number of years. Astounding as it is to me, people's baselines for "common decency" vary wildly. I saw this in my old work where we were all responsible for putting our own dishes in the dishwasher and other minimums. The people who left their old coffee grounds in the sink or took the last paper towel without replacing the roll were people I just couldn't understand.

One thing my RSI has forced me into is weighing my stressors. Being angry causes me physical pain so I have to ask myself if it's worth it. If I were in your position, I wouldn't feel too bad about having my own stash of things like Clorox wipes or other things that Not!Emily tends to use without replacing. Yeah, it feels petty. Yeah, maybe other people will judge. But fuck that shit. This isn't your problem. You're not the one who's being rude. You were generous and understanding up to a point and now you're sick of being taken advantage of. There's no shame in that.

It's up to you to decide how effective notes will be. Some people pay attention to them. Others don't. There's no use to writing them if they just crank up tension unless it's simply to have a written record of your side of the story. OTOH, if they work, then note away.

In past housemate situations I've had that were similar to what you've got going on, I just protected myself as much as possible. If I had something I didn't want "borrowed", I hid it. Although a housemate's laziness and/or slovenliness would drive me crazy, I decided not to clean up for them unless I really felt my need for clean was going to make me feel better. If it was just going to fuel my anger at the lazy one, I wouldn't do it. This only works for situations where you know you have to grit your teeth and deal until the roomie is out of your life. Because eventually, I would explode. I couldn't swallow it forever.

With age, though, I found it has been somewhat helpful to ask myself how much my anger is worth it. Does my anger hurt the person who deserves it? Does it motivate them to do what I'd like them to do? If not, there are probably better things for me to do with the energy because the anger actually hurts my body.

Since you and Emily seem to be on the same page about roomie things, do you have any leverage in talks with Not!Emily?

Anyway...I'm sorry you're having to go through that. I remember saying you were looking forward to getting a place with Emily in the future and I hope that comes to pass quickly.

I remember saying you were looking forward to getting a place with Emily in the future and I hope that comes to pass quickly.

Yeah. We're getting our own place in September. It will be heaven. I'm convinced.

And, yes, I'm up too goddamned late again. I've been trying to "rehearse" by having my playlist on the iPod and doing stuff around the house. I just got very paranoid about rehearsing at full volume too late at night. Even though I'm the only one who lives here, I was just too worried about my neighbors possibly being disturbed. So I listened on the iPod and softly sang lyrics to myself. The good thing about that is that I know I really know my shit when I can do things like cook and wash the dishes at the same time as singing the playlist. That means that I can handle nearly any distraction that might happen during the gig without flubbing lyrics. Unfortunately, I'm not quite there yet. And I've got to meet the accompanist at noon for our last run-through. Oh well. The show must go on.

Good luck, you!

Crap. It really sounds like you need to not be living with this guy.

...I'm going to have to say, in defence of Not!Emily, that it's entirely possible that he is not expecting you to do his dishes, or clean up for him. Obviously, I don't know the details of this situation, but I speak as a slob, on behalf of my people. (They would have elected me, but it would have involved getting off the couch and they couldn't remember where they put the voting slips...) I really am a slob. I am a terrible slob. It isn't malicious slobbery, though - it isn't sneaky subtexty "If I leave these here, then maybe somebody else will do them for me, heh heh heh" kind of slobbery. It's just that my own mess threshold is far far away from that of your average tidy person. FAR away. Happily my flatmate is of the same kind of mindset as me, and we muddle along fine, both registering mess at more or less the same time. However, when I was at Uni I shared a flat with 3 girls, and unfortunately 3 of us had far greater mess tolerance than one of us. She was absolutely infuriated, and understandably so, but it really wasn't malicious on any of our parts - it wasn't a 'she'll do it, I don't need to' mindset. It was more of a '....oh, hey, she's tidied up. Huh. I suppose it was kind of messy. Oops.' mindset.

Um. Which isn't to say that Not!Emily is a good egg, because I don't know him from Adam, and I think that him having asked you to tidy up when HE had guests, and HE chose to piss off out to play sports, leaving his slumbering girlfriend and the flatmate with electrodes in her head... well, this doesn't speak well of him. But, speaking as someone whose slobbery would undoubtedly make you homicidal, I just had to chip in.

I don't know whether that exascerbates the situation, or not - but I remember my old flatmate being at her wits' end with us, and feeling that it was intentional, premeditated she'll-do-it-we-don't-need-to kind of thinking, whereas it was just genuinely not-being-worried-about-it-and-planning-to-get-around-to-it-eventually kind of thinking.

Which is, I realise, just as annoying to live with, if one has anything approaching an Inner Bree. (My own Inner Bree ate all her home-baked cookies, left the dirty mixing bowl and batter-spattered work surfaces, and went off to write porn in the garden...)

eta

If I were in your position, I wouldn't feel too bad about having my own stash of things like Clorox wipes or other things that Not!Emily tends to use without replacing.

Not at all, I think that this would be entirely reasonable. If he is making free with your stuff, or if he's using stuff that's General Kitty-purchased stuff and then not replacing it, then HELL yes, keep your stuff where he can't get it/doesn't know about it. That isn't even petty.

Thanks, vw. I hope the universe gifts you with a wonderful day.

Damn, you two are just having NO luck with the living situations. And I've had drive-you-batshit-insane flatmates myself, and I know how wretched it is to come home and feel that you have no refuge, that home isn't home. It sucks.

I do wish you both all the best with your respective situations.

vw, I'm sorry Not!Emily is such a stressor. Maybe if you tried to look at it like, "There are times I leave our dishes in the sink," (if there are) or such, you'll feel less angry at him.