I love these people, I really do. They're my family. I've dealt with them my entire life and will continue to do so. But sometimes there are some words they need to hear.
Let's start with:
Don't touch my clothing anymore!
My little sister borrows my clothing all the time. Which in itself is okay, because every little sister does that. I don't mind if she wears my stuff as long as it gets into the laundry after, so I can get it back within a reasonable amount of time.
What I do mind is when she wears my belt for two months straight. My only belt, which I need for work, and I see she has two belts of her own hanging in the closet, why not wear those? I've been losing weight lately and every pair of work pants I own is too big in the waist, so I can't wear them without a belt or I end up flashing someone. As a result of this dire lack of belt, I've been wearing really uncomfortable tight black jeans to work, since at least they stay on my waist!
Friday night, my sister came home from school, went upstairs and found me in my room, and handed me my belt. She said she "found" it "again". This made me happy: yay for having my belt back! I put it in my bag and took it to work the next day, along with my baggy comfy work shorts.
I get to work, go to the bathroom to change into these baggy shorts, attempt to buckle my belt.
My belt buckle is snapped clear in half. The prongs that hold it closed have been torn away from the leather and are hanging uselessly.
So I'm stuck here at a nine hour shift wearing shorts that keep sliding down my ass and no belt. Thanks, sister. Could you have mentioned that you broke my belt before you let me take it to work?
Take out the freaking garbage or quit piling trash into the overflowing can!
At 2:00 AM, I'm unable to sleep. I go downstairs to check on my laundry, and between the kitchen and the laundry room sits a pile of toxic waste.
Oh, did I say toxic waste? Sorry, that was supposed to be a garbage can.
There's a pile extending about two feet above this garbage can consisting of milk jugs, cat food cans, shrimp popper wrappers, and yogurt cups. It's spilling everywhere and there's trash behind the can, against the wall, on the floor, in front of the fridge. It's unsanitary and why would you keep putting trash in a can that's piled two feet high above the bag?!
I can't even lift the bag out of the can without spilling more trash everywhere. I have to get a second garbage bag and fill it with the spilled trash before I can remove the original bag and put a fresh one in.
I'm thoroughly disgusted.
Is it that hard to put my laundry in the dryer before you start yours?
This is a phenomenon I rediscover every single day. I get home from work, drag my crate of laundry down to the laundry room and start my laundry so I have clean work clothes for the next day.
I go upstairs to pass the time, and come back an hour later to find my laundry in a soggy pile on top of the dryer and someone else's clothes in the washing machine.
Seriously, is it this hard?
After dealing with the garbage can from hell tonight, I finally got into the laundry room to check on the laundry I'd started hours previously. Sure enough, the dryer contained my brother's Bob Marley hoodie and a pair of socks. My laundry was in a crumpled wet ball in the washing machine.
It looked like he'd found my clean, wet laundry in the washing machine and instead of putting my laundry in the dryer and putting his clothes in for a fresh cycle, he dumped his hoodie and socks in on top of my clean clothes and re-started the load, and then dug through my wet laundry to find his clothes and put them in the dryer.
Not bothering to put my wet laundry in the dryer at any point here. It sits in a soggy ball, tangled around the agitator.
Where the hell are my headphones?
A week ago I let my brother and sister each borrow a pair of my headphones for a car ride so they wouldn't be bored.
Apparently, this means they can take my headphones to school every single morning without asking me, leaving me with no way to listen to music or online lectures on my computer at home.
I haven't seen either pair of headphones since last Sunday.
Thanks, guys.
...
I feel better after writing an essay about these trivial injustices. So, what do your housemates do that drive you up the wall?
Let's start with:
Don't touch my clothing anymore!
My little sister borrows my clothing all the time. Which in itself is okay, because every little sister does that. I don't mind if she wears my stuff as long as it gets into the laundry after, so I can get it back within a reasonable amount of time.
What I do mind is when she wears my belt for two months straight. My only belt, which I need for work, and I see she has two belts of her own hanging in the closet, why not wear those? I've been losing weight lately and every pair of work pants I own is too big in the waist, so I can't wear them without a belt or I end up flashing someone. As a result of this dire lack of belt, I've been wearing really uncomfortable tight black jeans to work, since at least they stay on my waist!
Friday night, my sister came home from school, went upstairs and found me in my room, and handed me my belt. She said she "found" it "again". This made me happy: yay for having my belt back! I put it in my bag and took it to work the next day, along with my baggy comfy work shorts.
I get to work, go to the bathroom to change into these baggy shorts, attempt to buckle my belt.
My belt buckle is snapped clear in half. The prongs that hold it closed have been torn away from the leather and are hanging uselessly.
So I'm stuck here at a nine hour shift wearing shorts that keep sliding down my ass and no belt. Thanks, sister. Could you have mentioned that you broke my belt before you let me take it to work?
Take out the freaking garbage or quit piling trash into the overflowing can!
At 2:00 AM, I'm unable to sleep. I go downstairs to check on my laundry, and between the kitchen and the laundry room sits a pile of toxic waste.
Oh, did I say toxic waste? Sorry, that was supposed to be a garbage can.
There's a pile extending about two feet above this garbage can consisting of milk jugs, cat food cans, shrimp popper wrappers, and yogurt cups. It's spilling everywhere and there's trash behind the can, against the wall, on the floor, in front of the fridge. It's unsanitary and why would you keep putting trash in a can that's piled two feet high above the bag?!
I can't even lift the bag out of the can without spilling more trash everywhere. I have to get a second garbage bag and fill it with the spilled trash before I can remove the original bag and put a fresh one in.
I'm thoroughly disgusted.
Is it that hard to put my laundry in the dryer before you start yours?
This is a phenomenon I rediscover every single day. I get home from work, drag my crate of laundry down to the laundry room and start my laundry so I have clean work clothes for the next day.
I go upstairs to pass the time, and come back an hour later to find my laundry in a soggy pile on top of the dryer and someone else's clothes in the washing machine.
Seriously, is it this hard?
After dealing with the garbage can from hell tonight, I finally got into the laundry room to check on the laundry I'd started hours previously. Sure enough, the dryer contained my brother's Bob Marley hoodie and a pair of socks. My laundry was in a crumpled wet ball in the washing machine.
It looked like he'd found my clean, wet laundry in the washing machine and instead of putting my laundry in the dryer and putting his clothes in for a fresh cycle, he dumped his hoodie and socks in on top of my clean clothes and re-started the load, and then dug through my wet laundry to find his clothes and put them in the dryer.
Not bothering to put my wet laundry in the dryer at any point here. It sits in a soggy ball, tangled around the agitator.
Where the hell are my headphones?
A week ago I let my brother and sister each borrow a pair of my headphones for a car ride so they wouldn't be bored.
Apparently, this means they can take my headphones to school every single morning without asking me, leaving me with no way to listen to music or online lectures on my computer at home.
I haven't seen either pair of headphones since last Sunday.
Thanks, guys.
...
I feel better after writing an essay about these trivial injustices. So, what do your housemates do that drive you up the wall?


Eric the Grey
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