"Obviously, it isn't a priceless family heirloom, but it is a nice piece of furniture."

Going out to the hardware store to get bolts for my kitchen table.

Let's start guessing how much damage my awful, disrespectful, "what? other people live here??????" roommate does to it. UGH.

Yah, 'cause I've spent several years acquiring nice stuff so SHE can destroy it. Great. 271 days.

BFF: get like a vinyl table cover
BFF: a really hideous one
Me: like an old lady in florida
BFF: and be like "this stays until we can learn to be neat!"

I need to get the hell out of my apartment.

So, after realizing how horribly late I already was for Contracts, and not helped along by my roommate's absolutely retarded questions that indicate to me that she really does have her head up her ass, I finally make it out to the elevator with her.

And finally, after a horribly long wait, the elevator shows up... And it has the maintenance guy in it, and the elevator is full of his stuff. So we wait for him to unload the elevator, and then SHE STARTS TRYING TO CHAT WITH HIM, and the fucking door starts closing, and, because ONLY ONE ELEVATOR WORKS FOR TEN FLOORS OF 30 UNITS EACH, I yell, GET THE DOOR! And she won't move!!! So I push her towards the elevator, because OMFG, I am NOT taking ten fucking flights of stairs down because SHE wants to be social.

So, of course, she proceeds to bitch me out in the elevator because oh my gawwwwd I like totally almost made her fall over! My reply: "Well, when there is one elevator, YOU REALLY NEED TO MOVE FASTER."

Have I properly emphasized the lack of more than one working elevator?! I should note as well that the wait for this one elevator was long enough for me to remember my USB stick in another bag, walk back down the hallway, unlock the door, go over to my room, grab the USB stick, re-lock the door, go back down the hall, and continue to wait for the elevator.

On Friday night, Boyfriend asked why there could be butter on the kitchen counter. It is now Monday. There is still butter on the kitchen counter. I really just wish she could cease to exist. Like, I come home from class and all her stuff is gone. That would be nice.

EDIT: In further support of my theory that she has her head up her ass: that creature has been using my CS travel mug (stainless, badass) because... all hers leak at the seal. Really? Gosh, I never would have thought that stuff you get for FREE is crap, especially when you put it in the bottom rack of the dishwasher. And, better yet, "I was going to get one from Target, but they were like so expensive! $20 for one with a handle!" While that is on the higher side of a travel tumbler, it is by no means unreasonable. The average value of mine is around $15/each (!= price paid since the Halloween one was on sale for $4.99 last November :P). Again, head --> ass.

I hate that creature that lives in my apartment.

That stupid creature continues to ask retarded questions in Contracts. It got to the point today where Prof. Contracts was shouting in class: "THIS IS CONTRACT, NOT PROMISSORY ESTOPPEL!" Ugh.

Some notes.

I actually sort of wish my roommate still hated me, because then she wouldn't try to sit next to me at random events. I've been in a crappy mood for the last couple days due to randomly getting sick on Sunday night, and I especially angry because I CAN'T SLEEP for some unknown reason. Grrrrrr. Add to it that it got really f-ing cold literally overnight, and I am still perfecting this whole "winter clothing" thing. Fun facts: I have one fleece from when I used to live up north, ten years ago. I wore it a couple times in the south, and it has just sat on a shelf since then. All my other sweaters are cotton.

k, resolved.

had big long talk with roommate.

we no longer want to stab each other.

that is all.

(20/20 HINDSIGHT: this was obviously temporary.)

I came home to find all my stuff from the living room piled in a corner in the dining room.

I feel... really fucking violated. That c---bag needs to fall out the window.

I am trying so hard not to stoop to her level of bitchy notes.

Elevators broken. I live on the TOP FLOOR.

Cut because I swear. A lot.

This situation has moved beyond Asking Nicely.

Me: "You need to clean the kitchen. It's disgusting, and it's been that way for a week, and I cannot live like that."
CBW:* "Oh, yeah, I'll get to that, I thought I was doing a good job."
Me: "Well, you haven't. The countertops always have stuff on them, and it's gross."
CBW: "Well I've been extremely busy this week**, I'll get to it."
Me: "I've been busy, too, but I manage to clean up after myself and do my dishes."
CBW: "Well on that note, can you take out the trash that's been sitting in the hall for like a week?"
Me: "I'll get to it, but when you asked me before, Boyfriend and I were on our way out the door to go to my sister's birthday party and we had our hands full." (Seriously, I had my suitcase full of laundry, textbooks, a huge casserole dish of un-iced cupcakes, and two bowls of icing.)

(* = C---bag Whore)
(** = We are in all of the exact same classes.)


Interesting note: since I instituted the "all my stuff goes on a tray" policy, I can be 100% certain that the mess is completely hers. Like, α=0.

Also, from the original email:

"3.) I can be a very respectful flatmate. I do tend to be messy, but I keep the mess to my room, I keep the bathroom clean, and always wash my dishes (HATE seeing messy sinks)"

Really? You always wash your dishes? Because it sure looks like they just kinda sit in the sink, on every counter, and on the stove.

Daily.

I keep hearing my toilet flush.

Isn't this a 2-bathroom apartment?

Yes, yes it is.

What fun. I kind of want to tie up my bathroom from 7-9 am tomorrow, just because it's my bathroom and I can. If the flushing continues, I will have to constantly remind the user to put in a maintenance request for the other bathroom.

Should not be an issue, honestly.

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.