I had planned on writing about how much of a slob my roommate is. Not dirty, just messy. Like how he leaves all his shoes sitting by the front door, with a pair or two directly in the way so that if I don’t pay attention when I leave for work I trip over them. I thought the most ridiculously passive aggressive way to handle it would be to grab all my shoes in my arms, dump them in front of the door, and say to him, “Is there where the shoes go?” Of course, to over dramatize the situation fully I’d need to not look at him as I walked away; except I don’t have two video cameras that I’d set up to catch the expression on his face and watch it over and over and over again. I’d make that face my screen saver.
Or maybe the fact that there were two full garbage bags sitting in our kitchen for almost a week. Just sitting there. More garbage would get placed in them and still they sat there. It became a war of desires. My desire not to take care of it and for him to do something. And his desire not to do anything. To really understand, you’d need to know that he parks right next to the garbage cans. So every time he goes out to his car he can easily throw them out. He wouldn’t even have to make a trip of the extra sixty feet to the garbage and back!
But I came back tonight to find the garbage out of the kitchen and his shoes neatly lined up by the door. Of course, there’s now an empty orange juice container on the dining table, but baby steps. Baby steps.
I feel like I need to start giving him a quarterly report card like they gave you in kindergarten where everything is a yes/no answer.
Washes dishes in a timely manner? No. Cleans up after self? No. Hangs up clothes (not leaving them draped over chairs)? No. Can tie shoes? Yes.
At least he’s got that going for him. We can work on the rest. I Hope.
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