let me explain my current living situation:
a year ago, i moved into my first apartment with my girlfriend. things go well, we’re both excited about the novelty of living together, etc. until the inevitable happens, and we break up. and of course, we break up maybe a month after we’ve signed our new lease. so here we are, with a year-long lease, and a one-bedroom apartment that neither one of us is willing to move out of (it’s very close to campus, and neither of us can really afford an apartment of our own).
things have been civil so far, though a bit awkward, and most fights that could have been pretty heated have been averted (i’m much more interested in diplomacy than getting my way right now).
but here’s where it gets sticky. she “called” the bedroom, which means i’m stuck with the living room as my room. fine, fine, whatever. that leaves the kitchen as the only common area.
with me so far? good. here’s where i have problems… she doesn’t respect the fact that i give up all my privacy by living in the living room. she’ll wake up in the morning while i’m still asleep, turn on the kitchen light (which thus lights up the entire living room), and noisily make breakfast. all right, i don’t expect her to eat her cereal in the dark, but is it asking too much that she turn the light off when she leaves the room??? she does this every single morning, and every single morning i get woken up and ask her to turn off the light as she’s leaving. i really think this should have sunk in by now…
and another thing. she’s made a decree that i’m no longer allowed to use her cups. all well and good, but all the other dishes (plates, silverware, all our cups except the 3 that are hers) are mine!!! she doesn’t have a problem using my stuff, but god forbid i should pour myself a glass of milk in her precious texaco plastic cup.
i’ve tried to talk to her about what i’ve described above, but she always counters with, “you get the living room! that’s so much bigger than the bedroom (it’s not really much bigger), so don’t complain to me!”
i always respond the same way: you just say the word, and we can switch rooms. hell, i’d love to switch rooms!
at this point she usually goes off on a tangent and calls me an ass.
i don’t care that she uses my dishes. i don’t mind if she turns on the kitchen light in the morning while she’s in there. but i think she’s being a jerk about it, and short of moving out, i don’t see anything i can do about it.
