I share an apartment with a friend of mine. Weapos;ve known each other for about six years now, and weapos;re really nothing alike, but we get along with each other pretty well, and we try like hell to help the other out when itapos;s needed. Our sharing the same apartment actually started when I left my most recent ex for screwing around behind my back. Why did I leave and not throw her out? Well, that apartment was hers. When weapos;d gotten together three years before she already had the place, and I moved in. Her landlord knew, she just never bothered to put my name on the lease. So here I am, living with my friend. Iapos;ve been here less than a year. Itapos;s not a bad set up really. I can walk to work in ten minutes, so I save money on gas. Iapos;m right across from the hospital in case I do something really stupid and get hurt. I have privacy when Iapos;m home. My room is a little small though... Oh, and my friendapos;s fiance moved out so I pay an even half of the rent now... And lately heapos;s not big on cleaning...� In a lot of ways heapos;s getting on my nerves. Iapos;m pretty good about not losing it around him, but today he brought me right to the brink. Weapos;ve decided to cook in bulk. Things that we can package and reheat as needed. Weapos;re hoping is saves us money on groceries in the long run. It involved ground beef.
To brown it, I needed a big pan. The pan that heapos;d used the night before, which was still dirty on the stove. Obviously it needed to be cleaned. Not a big deal. But then I looked at the sink, which was full of dishes. I needed to wash the dishes so I had enough room in the sink just to wash a single pan. While Iapos;m doing this, he passes through and says apos;I thought you were browning the meatapos;. I tell him Iapos;m going to, but then explain the two part process of actually using the pan. He� chuckles to himself and says apos;How does that make you feel?apos; Now this is just something he says. Like when youapos;re telling him about something that happened heapos;ll say apos;How does that make you feel?apos; Itapos;s either sarcasm or he really doesnapos;t give a crap about what anyone says. This time though, I felt something snap in my head when he said it. My first reaction was to take the plate I was washing and throw it at his head like a frisbee. And then...just kind of figure it out from there. Now, I understand he doesnapos;t like washing dishes. But he says that doing them gives him these weird flashbacks from being a kid when his brother would trick his parents into thinking it wasnapos;t his turn to wash them. Maybe this next part will sound heartless, but I donapos;t really give a shit. If THAT is the part of your life that youapos;re thinking back to all the time. If thatapos;s one of the most painful things to happen to you in your childhood, then youapos;re not doing too fucking bad.
I had a girlfriend for three years that didnapos;t like doing dishes just because she didnapos;t like doing them. Of course later it was because of her mild autism, or because she was tired, or whatever the hell else she came up with. But you know what? Itapos;s a little different when youapos;re with someone and care about them, then it is when youapos;re sharing space as friends. Iapos;m more apt to get angry at my friend faster than I am someone that Iapos;m dating regarding the same thing. Iapos;m just tired of my living situations in the last four years. It seems that thereapos;s always an excuse for the other person not to do something. Iapos;ve been given excuses on things like dishes, laundry, cleaning the bathroom, even things like walking ten feet to refill your own damn glass of water. Yes, itapos;s happened. It used to happen on a regular basis. It might be something I joke about, but Iapos;m not overly lazy. I know thereapos;s things that have to be done, and try to do them when they have to be done. How there can be a glass sitting on the end table next to the couch where he sat three days ago is amazing to me. I used two pans, two mixing spoons, and a spatula when I was cooking. It was all clean when I was done.
I donapos;t want a reward. I donapos;t deserve praise or anything like that. Iapos;m just sick of being the guy that will do what other people donapos;t do just because they donapos;t want to. So in short,� if anyone happens to read something in the police blotter about a local 27 year old man killing his room mate with a plastic cup over a matter of having it be dirty for two weeks...it was probably me.
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