I swear to the Gods: I get no relief from ANYTHING, NOT EVER. I am so crushed into a little, teeny ball of angst that remains plastered up against the wall at all times. I NEVER get space to myself for any amount of time that does me any good – enough time to replenish my frenzied brain or my anxiety ridden body…my roommates are both fucking slobs without a care in the world for anyone else’s comforts or preferences; they both carry on as if they live completely alone when it comes to things that effect all of us; and I am fucking sick of it. I am fucking sick of the way that they seem to almost work in unison to deprive me of alone time – one leaves and the other comes home, etc.
I’m sick of their faces right now, sick of looking at them both with their carefree expressions every day; I am sick to death of the way that one of them watches the same fucking shit Television shows and the same two or three James Bond films over and over and over. Or how he insists on playing his music with the bass turned up so loud, I cannot concentrate on my own tasks in my own bedroom. I am sick of how little common sense gets applied to situations when it comes to either one of them, too…instead of sliding the empty pizza box on its side BEHIND the recycling can, stupidly and mindlessly opting to COVER THE ENTIRE CAN by setting it over the top, instead…wtf sense does that kind of shit make???
Or how my house looks like we’ve been camping in the living room and billiard room for going on 3 months now, as my roommate is also too fucking lazy to put his gear away after using it. The cycle goes like this repeatedly, too:
He pulls out all of his gear and goes camping
he comes home and literally dumps his shit in the billiard room (the room that the front door leads directly into)
he leaves his shit strewn all over the fucking house until he goes camping again
repeat
repeat
then he gets some wild hair up his fucking ass sometime in early December or so to clean up the fucking indoor campsite at random and puts the shit into the garage (but doesn’t put it up where it all belongs though)
before long, it’s time to go camping again and it all starts anew.
So fucking tired of it. Tired of the way that I can’t keep even the tiniest piece of space for my own use without it being pirated somehow by one of them…tired of how I have to stay shut up in my room because the useless birds are driving me insane, or if they were magically being quiet, the one roommate would be constantly in my doorway trying to show me something on youtube or socknet or Instagram –
“I’m fucking busy, dumbass!!! Can’t you see the document open on my screen and don’t you notice my full attention focused on it???”
Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth to get a mother fucker to just leave me the fuck alone for a chunk of time….always being bothered by the stupidity of their ways, even when I make a point to remove myself from it.
“Dude…I have REAL problems, REAL troubles and strife…you’ll forgive me if I don’t sympathize with your meager and pathetic excuses for reasons to be upset…come back and talk to me when you’re a parent, or when you lose your kid, or when your mother is hospitalized for being insane again, or when your father gets beaten almost to death downtown over your hooker, drug-addicted daughter, etc. Don’t cry to a beggar about having no money or whatever, you seem so miserably shallow when you talk to me about trivial horse shit like you do, when I have REAL struggles to suffer through…damn.”
Why do you slam the front door (that shares a wall with my bedroom, right where the head of my bed is) when you leave for work every morning at 6:30? It’s not as if you aren’t aware that I am sleeping there. Why do you fail to lock the front door upon leaving, while I should theoretically still be asleep? Why do you treat the front porch as a trash receptacle for your garbage from your car? Why do you ever bother with an ashtray at all when 99% of your butts end up on the fucking ground?
Americana Injustica 
Man, do I love your rage!!! I just get it! I so fucking get it !!! Wishing you the best — meaning the opportunity to smash glass and I dunno, break something satisfying!!! I am with you !!! Pam w.
Ps thanks for visiting WAGblog !!
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Are you kidding? I’ve always been a huge supporter of your stuff and love to visit. Thanks for your understanding of my fucking rant, I hope you are well as well can be. Hugs.
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Oooh crappy roommates are like quite possibly the bane of my existence! I had so many of them in my younger years at one point I worked four jobs just so I could afford a teeny tiny suite to myself. It was heaven. Until the people upstairs started pounding around like elephants at 3 in the morning and knocking at my door to borrow an extra cigarette at all hours of the day and night. Sigh. Some humans in general are just very inconsiderate!
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Amen to that.
And, sadly, I can totally relate to the 4 jobs for the tiny suite with elephants living upstairs, also…
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Actually the worst right! LOL
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And that was a rant.
So you have the same problem as I do, my room is next to the front door, and the bed is pushed against the wall were the freaking door is so at 7 a.m “smack!” when the girl leaves for work.
At least you don´t live near a church, here in Spain, or at least this church, starting from 9 am until midnight will ring the bells, 9 am 9 hits, 10 a.m ten hit, and on and on and on and is driving me mental. Apart from the other woman there the Marrocan who seems unable to speak without cracking the windows. I´m not deaf, you don´t have to scream at me, she talks-scream with that Marrocan accent that I hate, plus the bitch moves my food around and once in a while I say to myself, didn´t I have two potatoes here, and then I find them in her shelf. I´ll probably drown her one of these days. But a rent of 130$ a month, I´ll take that shit everyday. By the way, how do you guys manage to do the cleaning of the house? In my case we go by sectors of the apartment, my sector being the living room, which is kind of ironic since nobody is there, each to his or her own room.
I have to say that I was actually smiling how you described the camping guy.
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You sure do always know how to make me feel better about shit, Char…it helps to know that I am not the ONLY person who is miserable in exchange for a roof over my head. Love and miss you.
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Love back
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Ummm I think they may be long lost brothers, from other mothers, of my dear partner!!!! This is him to a TEE and 13 years on its no better! Is it a man thing? Or maybe they were dropped on their heads as infants?? I’m feeling this post though … and you have my sympathies … sounds like drastic burning shit measures may be called for!
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Oh honey, 13 years???
Sigh…encouraging and not all at once…got a match I can use? LOL
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Yeeahh! And I had just finished moving and clearing out all of his ‘winter’ shit that was bailed up against the wall, drawers, floor, hall, bathroom … and had just sat down with a coffee and then BOOM, read your post! OMF .. what hope is there ?? !! LOL … and I have a whole box of matches and a couple cans of excelerant with your name on them that I’ve just finished using 🙂 🙂
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They need to grow up I fear. It’s obvious they have no respect for you or anyone else. hugs to you
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Ay ay ay! Reminds me of sharing flats with people. I concluded strangers were not meant to live next to each other, let alone in the same house. It just never worked. I would withdraw because of their BS, they’d think I was an asshole, then there’s just this tense non-descript funk between you all. They say money doesn’t bring happiness. Yet it can remove so many horrible things that are guaranteed to bring sadness so it’s a damn good start if you ask me.
I feel a lot like this in life. Like if it’s not wone thing it’s another – some MOOK with industrial garden equipment whirring 2 inches outside my window, tourette’s pigeons cooing incessantly on the roof, hyperactive kids screaming literally the entire time they are outside in the garden, cars, planes, sirens, phones, talking, bla bla bla bla bla bla bla bla BLA. We live in MADNESS. And the rest of the time, we get to do shitty chores.
You’re right to be angry! We’ve been had.
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p.s. I can spell one
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I knew what you meant, silly 😉
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Yes we have, my friend!
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few!
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