Murder is highly underrated

As I was cleaning my house today I was running through all the different roommates I’ve had and reminiscing about how much every single one of them has completely sucked (save my two college roommates who I appreciate now more than ever).

I thought I would put off writing about my roommate until I had started to find some of his less-the-desirable qualities less annoying and more endearing. But seeing as how I don’t think I’ll start to find being woken up every day by slamming doors at 2am endearing anytime soon, what better time to start kvetching than now?

When you live with roommates you have to just accept the fact that certain things are not going to be the way you want them. In fact, certain things are just going to flat out suck. My roommate slams doors. While I’m sleeping. He stores enough hotdogs in the freezer to get him through a nuclear disaster. And Armageddon. He cooks five pounds of oatmeal at a time, leaves the pot on the stove and eats out of it for days. He puts really disgusting and smelly things in the garbage and eventually I cave in and take it out when I start getting dizzy from the fumes.

This small list of pet peeves is enough to make me wonder if I could make a case for murder in self-defense.

But there’s more. Are you sitting down? Ok. Well, the thing is, he doesn’t recycle.

I know – it’s bad. Just take a minute and relax. Keep breathing and we’ll get through this together.

When I open the garbage and see a recyclable I feel as if someone has just slapped me across the face while insulting my mother. And the fact that I have to reach into the smelly slimy meaty garbage to fish out the recyclables makes the mother joke that much more insulting.

You might be thinking – Have you mentioned this to your roommate? Have you asked him to take the garbage out? Have you asked him to stop stomping around the fucking house at 2am? Yes, Yes and for god’s sake Yes. But, similar to a dog you punish for chewing on your shoe, when I turn my back there’s another fucking recyclable in the garbage. And I just don’t have the patience or the desire to try to re-train the dog. So, I just do things myself and harbor great amounts of resentment in the process. Every body’s a winner!