I hate my housemates.
The older I get the grumpier I become. I will definitely be an old man on a porch in a rocking chair, watching the kids play in the street and yell at them when their ball goes in my yard.
But mostly I hate my housemates.
It's been 4 weeks today since they moved in. They committed to 6 months and I don't know whether the extra money is going to be worth my mental anguish.
A lot of it is the transition from living alone and having things the way I want them, to living with two others in my space. No I won't say a lot. I will say a small majority in comparison to things happening such as:
- My shit getting broken in secret and nobody saying anything about it (I've heard breaking glass, and I've stood on it)
- I found a CONDOM IN THE TOILET. CONDOMS DO NOT GO IN THE TOILET
- The shower door got broken and ripped off the tracks. And just left. And I got a "oh by the way, xxxx broke the shower door, sooo...." so then I fixed it. And this morning it has been broken again and pieces of it have seemingly gone down the drain and now it is un-fixable.
- Housemate A has only one thing she cares about and that is keeping the toilet door closed. When no one is in there. And there's no lock. Yesterday I was walked in on with my pants down.
Every day I find something new to hate about them.
