REDACTED:
Well, the mail key is missing. Awesome. I saw it on a keychain earlier today, and by keychain I mean in addition to the one marked MAIL that stays separated from the usual keys. So instead of being able to retrieve MY mail from the past WEEK, I have to wait on another party in order to get the mail key. WTF.
When I started eating my peas, I realized, after a bite, that the fork I was using was dirty. EW. I know it was a fork I had used to eat eggs and cheese last week, but often the dishes make it into the dishwasher without having been scrubbed in order to remove... egg and cheese... despite my bringing it up as a problem that needs to be addressed from time to time... and more specifically, I leave particularly gross things that are not mine in the sink, and I expect the same in return. Really, it is my mess, I will clean it up.
Still fighting the urge to throw up. I ate the rest of the peas with a spoon. I couldn't get over the texture of the egg/cheese between the tines of the fork. I suspect I will be eating with spoons for awhile, in fact.
And the door to the other bedroom isn't closed completely so the wind keeps hitting it against the door frame. Awesome. Time for earplugs.
--END REDACTION.
4:19 am - New strategy: I will let her live in her filth. I will be using my yellow tray as a mobile countertop, and I will wash the entire thing and store it between uses, specifically because it is bound to get pretty gross on the bottom. So if she wants to leave a fucking avocado out for eight hours, then she can do so. I am also going to request that she contribute anything at all to the kitchen, like a second cutting board. And, the eggshells, fruit rinds, and teabags she leaves in the sink make her responsible for putting in the maintenance requests when the disposal dies. *sweet smile*
That door is pissing me off, though. It continually slams against the door frame, which shakes the entire apartment.
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