flatmate complaint

i generally really like my flatmate.  but sometimes, i want to say, 'one of these days, k... pow!  to the moon!'

this is one of those days.

k is out of town.  for a week.  which is great for having the flat to myself.  i love that. 

it's not so great when k left all kinds of gross and grody dishes from cooking and stuff, unwashed.  for me to do, i guess.  what a nice gift. 

and also not great when i can't lift the rubbish out of our bin, but less heave it into the big bin outside... especially when k empties the litterboxes in there a couple of times.  that junk is heavy.  so i'm gonna be stuffing in as much rubbish as i can, and leaving the damn bin for k to clear upon return. 

another thing.  leaving laundry clogging up the washer and dryer.  and hanging all over the flat.  when there was a full week to get it done beforehand.  so now, i'm left dealing with k's laundry just so i can deal with mine. 

if i were to leave any of these kinds of things undone while i went away for a week, boy, would i hear about it!  but since it's k's flat, it's just expected that i deal with it.  which is unfair, really.  i pay my rent, and i'm not here to be a maid or slave of any sort. 

it just works out that way most of the time.  grrrr!

life with, and yet without

i have a decent chunk of change sitting in my bank account.  whether or not it's enough to get my visa extended is still to be seen.  what it is enough for, however, is to make my life miserable.  or at least very frustrating.  there are things i need... that i could technically even afford to buy.  but i can't.  here's my list of things i need (not even counting things i just would like to have):

fresh groceries (i did just splurge on pantry items and nonperishables to see me through
new mattress: the springs in mine are poking me
new contacts: i've been wearing my one-month disposable pair for about six months now
new glasses: my frames are about a decade old, and the prescription is nowhere near right
postage: to send my sister and brother-in-law birthday gifts (late now), and my godson/nephew his easter gift
toiletries: like hair stuff, and toothpaste, and other necessary girlie items
bus fare: 2.60 every once in a while, so i can visit friends in far parts of town
rent: luckily, my flatmate knows i'm good for it, and since he owns the place, he'll let me slide
sunglasses:  i can't go out in the light without them, but i've lost two pair in two weeks.  bah.
underclothes: yeah.  socks and underwears and bras.  mine are... well, not in good shape. 
academic expenses: to bind my thesis, pay my graduation fee, etc


i know that i am lucky to be living where i do, doing what i am, and all that stuff.  i am not literally starving (yet), and i am not in danger of being put out on the street (yet).  but i am--and having been--living well under the poverty line for quite a few years now.  it gets old.  i know how to budget, i don't splurge on luxuries very often, things like that.  but still.  it'll be so nice to actually be able to buy the things i need one day...

Smelly Cat

oh, sure.  it's funny when phoebe sings about it on friends.  and sure, it's funny when it's someone else who is complaining about it.

i am SO TIRED of these damn cats stinking up the flat.  it's not a big flat;  their stench permeates every inch of it. 

perhaps if they were mine, it would be different.  but they aren't.  they come with the flat, and belong to K.  so not only do i have to deal with shedding cat hair on every inch of every surface, and their yowling night and day because they think they are starving to death if they don't have treats in their bowls, and their claws tearing everything to shreds, and them pestering me to death for attention all. the. time, and them being constantly underfoot no matter where i go, and having to feed and clean their litterbox when K is gone...

as if all that weren't enough, they stink.  big time.  perhaps it's cheap litter.  perhaps it's overeating.  perhaps it's my sensitve nose.  but i don't care.  there are times when i have to cover my nose with my shirt because they reek so damn bad. 

and THEN they come in the lounge, drag-assing their way around the loveseat or the rug.  don't bring your stench in here.  and stop scratching your ass where i relax! 

i hate indoor pets right about now. 

Unannounced

i love surprises.  i don't want to know what gifts you've gotten me until i open them-- on the occasion, and not before.  i love parties i don't know about in advance.  i love running into people that i didn't expect to see.  and getting someting in the post that i didn't order or expect?  brilliant. 

i love surprises.

okay.  i love GOOD surprises. 

is there a word for a bad surprise?  a shock, perhaps?  or being startled?  or... i don't know.  something else?

yesterday, i got a bad surprise.  it's not the first time.  sadly, it happens a good bit.  my flatmate's boyfriend showed up for the weekend.  which is fine, really. i don't mind him;  i just would like to know that he'd coming before the buzzer sounds.  is that too much to ask?

i can sometimes guess when he might be coming.  K (my flatmate) will stock up the fridge (which never happens otherwise, as K rarely eats anything here but ready-meals).  and clean like crazy.  and be home on a Saturday.  usually K works all weekend (or is at least somewhere other than here... i haven't actually asked if it's work or not).  so i'm pretty used to being on my own all weekend.  lazying around on the sofa in my pyjamas, watching tv, playing online, whatever.  not doing the dishes til sunday night, so they are at least done by the time K gets back on monday.  typical stuff like that.

but yesterday, K comes home from work in the afternoon.  and stays, instead of rushing off again as per usual.  and then...  buzzzzz.  someone is wanting to be let in.  damn it.  thankfully this time, they had plans for the theatre, so i still ended up with the flat to myself last night.  but once they were back, it was third wheel time for me.  so i went to bed early.  not that it made any difference. 

when i went to get up and ready for church this morning, the bathroom was occupied.  i waited and waited and waited... but to no avail.  by the time they were both ready (after extended baths or showers or what have you), it was too late for me to get ready and walk the thirty minutes or so to church.  bah.  so i went back to bed until they left.  and now i'm sitting here wondering when they'll be back, because i didn't bother to shower or get dressed.  no point in going out now.  still in my pjs. 

i guess i'll just retreat to my room again when and if they return.  and wish that next time, K would give me a little warning before the boyfriend comes over.  it's not him being here that bothers me;  it's the very bad surprise of not being prepared for company til he's here. 

grrrrr.  i hate those kind of surprises.  why can't i just get a little hint ahead of time?  is that so hard?