The Problem With Sharing

Before I go off on a total bitch-fest, I need to say at the outset, that I really love and adore my flatmate, C. I've known C for twelve years (or is that thirteen?). We met one summer in the States when she was doing the CampUSA program and I was finding a way to avoid staying with either of my crazy parents for my first summer after my first year of college. C is a ton of fun and I wouldn't change her for the world.

I also need to add that my mortgage is such that I must rent out my second bedroom or live the life of a hermit. I love my flat, but it stretched the limits of my spending power. And if it wasn't C, it would be someone else. Someone I didn't know and would have to learn to trust and maybe they'd turn out to be psychotic and steal my things. So it's great that C is my flatmate, because it's good to live with someone you already know, like, and trust. But living with people can have it's own issues.

And every now and then one needs to get the shit off their chest. Hello blog!

My obsession with ridding the house of garbage started yesterday. I actually managed to clear a box from my room (they have only been there since November). The kitchen garbage was full as well and so there had been a pile of garbage accumulating around it. I put all the piled garbage in the box and left it by the door so that the first person who goes out (which takes you past the bins) could take the garbage. This morning I decided to additionally empty the kitchen bag, the bathroom garbage, and also the garbage in my room- as it had filled up yesterday with my spur of activity. So I tied everything up and put it all by the front door to go out.

This morning C says "What's all this?" to the piles of bags and boxes by the door.

"I've decided to purge the house of garbage."

"Oh." she said. And with that, moved it all away from the door so that she could go to work- walking RIGHT PAST THE BINS. What the fuck??

I think I'll be able to manage all the garbage myself but does this make sense?

There is also a pile of dishes in the sink- most of which are hers. Most of which were there when I got back from Wales. I don't think she's done the dishes since I've been back from Wales and that was Sunday. I did the dishes once- basically I did enough to clear the sink and used up one 'soap filled' sponge. I thought to myself that this may indicate that I did some, she could do some. But apparently not. The dishes have re-piled back to the earlier proportions and very little of it is actually mine. What the fuck??

Then there's the ongoing pet peeve I have with the bathroom. C never props the door back open when she uses the bathroom and I always prop the door open. Otherwise it gets moldy and smelly and cuts off the cross ventilation in my flat- critical in this hot weather. She also leaves the bathmat on the floor and doesn't wipe up the water after she's taken a shower. I always do these things. Doesn't she find it strange how the door is always propped open and the bathmat is always neatly folded on the side of the tub, DRY, when she wants to take a shower? What the fuck!?!!!

Like I said, I adore C and while people who know me may cluck their tongues and say something about not living with friends. It's really not that big a deal. I just need to blow of steam every now and then and then it doesn't really bother me at all. Or at least, I can manage the irritation fine. It doesn't impact how I feel about her.

It's just fucking annoying.