I hate my roommates.
The list of griefs is long, consisting of mainly the littlest and most trivial of pet peeves; things one should overlook and consider oneself mostly lucky because even though the roommate is a flawed human (read: savage) they, at least, are good enough to pay their bills on time and not run a prostitution operation out of the home.
Then there are the larger things...that make one want to reconsider the above concession.
Roommate often disturbs my only off time with long, drawn out fights with her boyfriend. These have been happening with less frequency but not with less intensity. I find it insanely irritating - if I had a beef with Dinah, I would not fight about it in front of other people and certainly not throughout the day, carrying the shouting match across the house whilst continuing daily activities.
Today has been the stupidest piece of crazy.
Roommate is having emotional problems - her father has recently passed away and she has not been getting along with her mother since this major life event. Understandable.
Roommate comes home after a weekend of housesitting for her mother. She comes home clearly upset about something that happened over the weekend that has nothing to do with us.
Now - over the weekend we got bored and redecorated a bit (and cleaned - A LOT.) This means that some items of hers got moved - as respectfully as possible - to her room and the storage room. These items include: a seasonal ceramics display that we figured was time to retire (XMAS) and a giant purple tupperware making the hallway an eyesore since it is the setting place for a variety of shoes she DOES NOT WEAR EVER. (We keep all our clothing and accessories in our bedroom thanxxxxx)
Back to the story - SO SHE COMES HOME FROM HOUSESITTING FOR HER MOTHER CLEARLY UPSET ETC and flips the fuck out for the better part of an hour about how "ALL" of her decorations were booted from the living area and took it as a deliberate personal attack. However, the way she chose to convey this message was by crying about it loudly (read: wailing/shouting) to her boyfriend but refusing to actually talk to us about it. I suppose because she knows on some deep dark, mostly unused level that she was overreacting and taking it way too personally.
Also....the kitchen is entirely decorated with her massive (read: hugely tacky) collection of coca cola novelties and knick knacks. She's hardly had her decorating rights revoked.
So the one thing that gets moved back?
The giant, ugly, purple tupperware bin displaying the nasty shoes that no one wears. And "IT STAYS THERE." Just because
And we had had such a good weekend.