smothered hope

Living with roomies is always a challenge, even if the people involved are the best of friends (often, the challenge is increased by the level of friendship involved). While I certainly do not dislike my current flatmates, I get annoyed with them from time to time, as I'm sure I must likwise grate on their nerves. The annoyance I'll feel at some peccadillo is usually amplified in the morning, when I am at maximum grouchiness. For example, I believe I once called Steve a "soulless bastard" or some such thing for turning a lamp on before I was ready for it. I know I have hollered at the cats to "shut up before I turn [them] into a handbag," though I felt somewhat entitled to my bitchiness, since it was about 5am at the time.

That said, I have this issue with a roomie. I'm afraid to confront him about the little messes he leaves because A) he is my friend, and B) he takes a ludicrous amount of offense at being asked to clean up, especially from me. It's been suggested (strongly; well, flat-out stated) by another roomie that the perpetrator (X, for all intents and purposes) of these messes is offended by cleaning requests made by women. Now, I could understand this hang-up if he had a nagging mother who never let him rest until hospital corners were folded and grout had been scrubbed with a toothbrush, however, this wasn't the case, to the best pf my knowledge. Still, a simple "please" shouldn't elicit a heavy sigh and a noticibly irked tone of voice. Only, what am I to do? Holler, thus reinforcing his idea that women(housework) = harridans? Ask politely over and over, until I begin to feel like a human doormat with stinky pots piling up in her kitchen? Do the dishes each time, until I begin to feel like a well-trodden-upon human doormat?

I have to admit, I felt like a victim of misogyny this morning. But of course, I was barely sipping my first cup of tea, and I freely admit that the sound of human voices in the morning is enough to send me into a frothing rage. I'm now adequately calm enough to say "ok, my friend is not a misogynist, but he's got weird dish-issues which interfere with my ability to enjoy a clean home." I'm home much more than I was a few months ago - but that doesn't make me the housekeeper.

And so you see, I have my own issue to deal with: I can be too nice about it (enabling X's behaviour), nice about it (which apparently, makes X feel picked on), or be mean about it (which will most assuredly ruin my friendship with X, and is probably what ruins friendships between roommates all the time), but I can't win. It's just a few pots. I know. But it's always just a few pots. And some socks. And some beer bottles. And a few coffee cups with icky beverage-remnants inside. And a bunch of little things that are so petty in and of themselves, yet combined are a force of annoyance rivaled only by telemarketers and David Spade. It sucks to be in this position. Anything I say about it makes me an "evil bitch", and yet, what's fair about leaving me to deal with someone else's mess? I can say no more about this than, "Argh."

Another thing which is argh-worthy is the lack of sunshine lately. (I know, weak segue; suck it up.) I don't feel terribly inclined to go out in this crud, though I will if I need to, and I'm not inclined to go for bike rides, either. The latter is a real shame, since I could use the exercize, and I just plain enjoy biking. Bleh. Aren't we supposed to be enjoying flowers by May? Doesn't the song say the showers happen in April? Blasted, lying song!

Since this entry began with a complaint and segued into another, it is only fitting that I end this with a complaint: Why does it feel ike everything I've written lately begins with passion, yet runs out of steam early on? Take this entry, for example: BITCH, BITCH, Bitch, bitch, yawn, wah, blah....

I'm going to do more laundry, since it is apparently the only thing I haven't any complaints about today. Feh.

back | forth

listening:
reading:
ingesting:
(see entries before 20.11.05)

previously on Smothered Hope:

unreal - 20.05.08
in which our narrator kinda just babbles on a bit - 15.05.08
drank several margaritas last night. they were great. - 04.05.08
spacey - 29.04.08
i will most definitely regret posting this in public - 28.04.08