I have a room mate, hes a guy I have known for ever…well 7th grade, smart guy, great friend, I cant say we make the best room mates due to personality differences but most of the time its “whatever”
the problem is we have a kinda small 2 bedroom with no where near enough room for 2 adults with all their crap. so for the kitchen I figured I would get a shelf (as in like 5-6 shelves in a unit) to replace the stand that the microwave is on, we need the space, it will free things up a ton, and its a good solution.
first time I suggest it his “girlfriend” is present, he looks confused as fuck and wants to know where the microwave will go, girlfriend informs him "on a shelf’ with a tone that strongly implies the word dumbass at the end of that sentence. he says nothing
second time, I mention that I am looking for something cheap would he keep an eye out? again nothing other than a vague agreement
2 days ago, fed up with the lack of space I tell him I am buying a shelving unit for the kitchen…thats right, still nothing
today, pick up shelves, move into kitchen move stuff off of old stand thing, put old stand thing into car and head to work, yes stuff is all over the place in the kitchen right now and will be for most of (but less than) 24 hours as I simply dont have time to assemble it.
2 am rolls around, I have been home for about 10 minutes when he comes home from the bar, pissed about the kitchen.
“I coulndt use the microwave” (while he was saying this I was literally cooking food in said microwave) “the kitchen is a disaster, you are so inconsiderate, you should have done it better than to spread shit all over the counters blah blah blah” oh yeah, “the only reason I went out tonight was because I couldnt use the microwave” (note muther fucker is at the bar 99% of thursday nights) and also “I never wanted a shelf in the kitchen, I could have saved you the money, this is what happens when you dont communicate blah blah blah”
now I know hes been drinking, I flat out tell him he can bring this shit up tomorrow when hes sober if he wants and after trying to start a fight (verbal) he goes to bed.
news flash asshat, we need the extra space, and you WERE talked to 3 different fucking times, your opinion was evidently telepathically transmitted to counselor Troy who is still unable to reach me since shes a WORK OF FICTION.
yes the kitchen is a disaster, guess what? it will be fixed tomorrow so stop being a fucking pussy, man the fuck up and Deal with it.
last on the list, you consulted me about rearranging the living room, I said fine, you told me you were going to “get it done” one weekend and I said fine and packed up everything I could to condense my stuff so you could simply move my shit to where it needed to be and I would then deal with it…that was 6 mother fucking months ago you lazy fucking cockholster. while you have been fucking around NOT moving the living room around I have had to unpack every goddamned thing I packed up in the first place because that is shit I use once in awhile…and I am still waiting for you to move a single piece of furniture a single fucking inch.
cant wait for tomorrow, I want to hear his thoughts when the fucking shelf is up and working and I can get in his face about the ever not rearranging living room.
christ why cant people just be adults? I mean trying to say it was never even brought up when it was and he just went into denial mode over the whole issue when there were witnesses to the biggest conversation on the subject? trying to say I am an asshole for messing up the kitchen for a day when the goddamn living room has been waiting on his lazy ass for what is fast approaching 6 months? then talking about communication?
fuck I wish I could afford to move out.
(note) on the alcoholic bits, he comes home drunk on average 3 nights a week, and strangely the nights most likely to be home and sober would be friday and saturday with monday coming in a close 3rd. Now when you work mon-fri and drive as part of your job you would think anyone living less than 6 blocks from a bar would have the common sense to I dont know maybe WALK instead of drive? Maybe not get so shitfaced you cant operate the fucking lock and instead kick the door in (twice) maybe come home and not try to wake the upstairs neighbors/Landlord, maybe not come home so trashed that frozen pizza sounds good…in a 400 degree oven…still wrapped in plastic…and on cardboard. maybe come home sober enough to not put soup one the stove on med high and then pass out…with the water running on full hot.
I admit I have trouble giving a shit about a lot of this stuff, but trying to burn the fucking house down that I am sleeping in pretty much crosses the line, unfortunately being broke doesnt help me get the hell out of here.
