Current mood:	aggravated
Current music:	Just ~ Mudvayne

So... I don't mind my roommates most of the time. But lately, they've been getting on my nerves more and more often.


I like to think I've lightened up alot since I lived with Geri. I was seriously a Nazi to live with back then. Entirely too OCD for my own good. But I still like to have the apartment somewhat clean. It means that if I have friends coming over, I don't have to worry about having to clean off a place for them to sit, or looking like a slob. I just like not living in a dump. This is apparently a very difficult concept for either of them seeing as the apartment can't seem to stay clean more then a couple hours at most.

New Years I went to Indiana to hang out with friends. I left a couple days before and came home the day after. Since they were gone the week and a half prior to hang out with families, I took the opportunity to clean the apartment. Everything got a good vacuuming and general scrubbing. I knew that they were having a couple friends over for New Years which was fine with me. Before I left, I told them that I didn't care who came over so long as the apartment was still clean when I got home. Needless to say I got a bullshit excuse about how hard it was to keep things clean with four people staying in the apartment (there was something like 10 or so at Heather's and it somehow made it out pretty damn clean). The apartment was not only trashed when I got home, but remained trashed until I got pissed and said something 3 days later.

It got cleaned then (mostly by me... again) and I told them that I didn't really care what their area looked like so long as their stuff stopped taking over the rest of the apartment and all the apartment stuff stopped getting shoved next to their bed. That lasted all of a few days. We're back to their shit all over the living room and being a general mess. I'm tired of playing maid service. But if I don't clean, then the apartment begins to look like a sty again. And then I don't want to invite friends over because I know that I'm going to have to deal with moving all their shit to make room.

Not that their stuff being everywhere is the only problem. Somehow, my stuff is getting dragged in too. I'm thrilled that Mandy and I can wear the same size clothes. And if she needs to borrow a tank top or whatever, then sure. But it's nice to be asked first, you know, given that this is my stuff. And it'd be awesome if what I own makes it back to my closet. Hell, I'd settle for stuff making it back to my room. I was given a new jacket as a late Christmas gift from one of my friends. I adore this thing. It's white with black trim, kinda 50's mod feel. It's adorable. But note that it's a white jacket. I've only worn it once or twice because I'm trying to avoid getting it dirty. I find out today that Mandy borrowed it to have Corey take pictures of her in it. Didn't ask, didn't make sure I didn't mind (I was working at Grandma's all day... a quick phone call was totally possible). I know it's not like she wore it out and all that, but for some reason this really gets under my skin.

Last night I went to bed around 4 am or so. Now... the washer is in the bathroom right next to my door. I had mentioned not doing laundry really late at night before because it gets off balanced and makes a shit ton of noise and given that it's right next to my room, it wakes me up. Mandy had put clothes into the washer and drying right about the time I was going to sleep. So I got to try and fall asleep listening to things bang around in there. And was then woken up at 9 this morning when Corey put a bunch of stuff into the dryer (which included his pants that still had a belt in them). Not surprisingly... this woke me up. None too happily either.

I recently moved my computer into my room. I was getting tired of it being the community computer. It getting a nasty worm was the final straw. My room is a bit cramped now, and I seem to spend all my time in here. Then again... when the other option is fighting for space on the couch to get control of a tv that they spend all their time watching, my options are limited. It's funny, because I'm spending this huge amount on rent, and yet the only room I see is my own. I make quick trips to the kitchen or the bathroom, but the rest of my apartment doesn't seem to be my own.

It's driving me fucking nuts. And what's worse is that as much as I'd love to kick them out, I can't. I can't afford to. Even though I'm only getting $50 a week from them, which is next to nothing, it's more then I'd get living by myself.

I found a couple wanted ads in the paper. One of them is for full time clerical work. I'm putting in an app and praying like hell. If I can get a full time job, or even another part time job that lets me pay my bills on my own, they're going to be finding somewhere new to live. Corey already knows this, or at least has an inclination since we'd talked about it before.

I miss living by myself. I miss having privacy. I miss having a clean apartment. I miss being able to afford all my bills.