the problem is choice

Soooo... I'm back at Uni.

Hoo... fucking... ray...

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It must of been odd, that whenever any of you asked if i was looking forward to coming back to Uni, that I'd not really know, or care about, the answer.

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"No no... learn to enjoy losing"

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Now... it may not of been the most intelligent thing to do... agreeing to live in a house you've never seen... but i had this thing called 'trust' in my Uni friends. We'd already looked at some places, and i really liked a few of them. I was busy however, on the scheduled 'viewing' of the house we currently occupy. The two housemates that saw it though, said that it was good. They described it somewhat, i forget what they said.

Really though, after seeing it, and living in it for a few days, i've come to realize a few things. About the house. About my 'friends'. About life in general.

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"There's always a bigger fish"

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God knows how the previous tenants lived in this house, but i bet they did something vaguely similar to what i'm about to do. I'm probably going to buy my own fridge and have it in my room. The reason? Our current fridge, besides actually being another freezer and having the bit on the door, where you usually put milk, falling off, it's stupidly small. It has one shelf. Count them. One. Yes. This technically makes two platforms to place items of food. Some in the bottom of the fridge, some on the only shelf. Now... NOT ONLY is that not going to allow 4 people ample enough space for all their food... BUT... there isn't even enough room for me, besides Liz's stuff. (Liz = housemate who's been living there all holidays.) She hasn't even attempted to make any room. Not that I've asked... *shrug*

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"ASSthetically pleasing... *nods in direction of said ass*"

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No... not the animal kind.

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Today, after doing some shopping, and buying some shelves for my room, which i've now put together and am quite happy with, I decided to tell Liz my plans on buying myself a fridge.

Well hot diggity damn.

It seems I should of read her mind or something. (The absence of the other 2 housemates seems to have no bearing on her words... i think by 'we' she actually means 'i') She said that we're (she's) going to chip together to buy the house a new fridge. That's news to me. Not only is that such a stupidly ludicrous idea... mainly because it'd no doubt involve me donating £100 of my own money to a fridge i have to share with people who seem to try to grow new lifeforms, but there is still no way in hell 4 people can share one god damn fridge. That's a fact. A family can do it, sure... but a family is more communal. A family doesn't have 4 tubs of butter, 3 kinds of milk, umpteen different tubs of humous or other jars of mayonaise/ketchup etc. It just doesn't/will not/won't work. What the hell am I supposed to do? Shell out £100 on a fridge i'll never enjoy using, and probably never be able to fully use anyways? Ummm... no. for about £90 I can have an ample fridge unit delivered to my house from Argos. Everyone else could do the same, and save themselves a tenner. Hmmm... I say everyone else... but it's only me and Liz there (technically, it's Liz and her boyfriend... and me. Don't get me wrong, I like him... but it's a fact you need to know for later.) The other two guys haven't a clue what's going on. Liz is making all the decision making, and I'm not about to be pushed around. She can, in no other words, go fuck herself.

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I admit... it's not just the fridge that's caused this... anger... towards her. Her and her boyfriend have been living there all summer... she even told me over the phone, that she had discovered it was not the 'boys' who were the messy ones, as she had once thought, but it was infact herself. (No shit Sherlock!) When i arrived with my mum on the Sunday, the house smelt. A mixture of tobacco and some... damp... stench. Not unbearable, but... not pleasant either. The house wasn't particularly tidy either, and she had told me over the phone that she would endeavour to clean up before i arrived... god knows what the place looked like beforehand. (Although now, 3-4 days having passed, I'm getting a good fucking idea what the place looked like.)

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My mum left that day, probably having increased her stress levels by another notch. Something she doesn't need. Something i couldn't really help either... mums will be mums... they'll worry. The meal with my mum in a local chinese restaurant was nice though. Talking to my mum during the journey to Hull, and during lunch, was also nice. I learnt a lot more, which is good. I'm sure she 'heard' a lot more... but being in the position she's in... she's already told me she doesn't need to know about the world, she's depressed enough, and what i know is thoroughly depressing. Hell, she's taught me depressing stuff too. She'll tough it out. We all have to really.

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Liz had work later on Sunday, and off she went. I watched a bit of daytime tv, just generally pondering over my current situation. I had a bedroom to choose. One was smaller, but more secure, cozier in a way. The other was much larger, lighter, but seems less secure. It does have double glazing though. It was also a storage area for everyones (who hadn't come back yet) stuff. Matt (Liz's boyfriend) had been occupying the smaller room, but had moved most of his stuff out, as he has now found a place to live. I spent the rest of Sunday moving everything that wasn't mine and storing it in the smaller room, in a typical efficient manner i might add. Those boxes would be hard pushed to be stacked any better :P I also moved my desk away from the window (stupid place for it to be, if i'm going to put my flatscreen on it) and moved it to the far corner of the room. Also moved the bed so it now faces the window. Everything i own at Uni was on my bed, and not being bothered about actually sleeping on the bed, i got out my sleeping bag, and went to sleep on the floor.

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It was generally a good nights rest, I like sleeping on flat surfaces. The only problem i found, which i'm sure most of you guys can relate to, is that sleeping on my front was... impractical (and it hurt). I like rolling around... so i was restricted to laying on my back, which caused a bit of discomfort. Never the less, i survived.

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5.47 am

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Monday was alright, I got a few things done that i needed to do, although by the end of the day, i decided to make a list of things i want to do, so i don't forget them. Many many things. *shrug* One thing i got done on Monday, was to complain to the company that we're renting the house from. Some of the things i complained about were, in retrospect, pretty lame. Liz could of done them herself, but complained about not being able to reach the light fittings to change the light bulbs. She's full of shit though... has she never stood on a chair before? Other things were more serious... like the fridge, plus our cooker doesn't ignite. A man came around later that day to 'inspect' the fridge, although the company told me that thats the fridge that was there when we signed the contract, the man said he'd see what he could do. Still no word though. Liz made us some garlic bread and a bit of salad for dinner. Note: This was the first plate/knife/fork i had used... since Sunday lunch with my mum, I hadn't eaten anything until dinner on Monday. Not a very filling dinner, but it was a pleasant offer and meal. Since Monday, I washed that plate and the knife so i could use it again. I also used one cup, and am continuously using a pint glass to drink water from. This is all I have used. (My mum used a cup too... but i'll get to my point on why holding anyone but Liz responsible for that cup is wrong, soon)

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Sorry for the length of this post.
Hope you're baring with me.

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I woke up late on Tuesday, and didn't do anything of much note. I went to the shops... bought a pack of chicken slices... got one free. Bought some bread... some peanuts... some mustard... and a madiera(sp?) cake. I went home and ate chicken with bread and mustard... and cake... on the plate i used on monday, but washed for this meal. I then went out for a drink until pub closed, while eating peanuts and playing pool.

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The state of the living room had been getting progressively worse since Sunday... and i can safely say, a miniscule amount of it was my fault. I offered to wash up after dinner on Monday, but Liz kindly said leave it. I knew I shouldn't of, but Liz would even go off on one if i do it anyway, she thinks you're being childish or some shit like that.

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Wednesday was quite productive. I bought stuff... plates (one of these was to replace a plate of mine Liz broke... no hard feeling, shit happens.) Spent £20 quid on a cutlery set... that i'd like to last the rest of my life :P Bought a duvet and cover for extortionate amounts of money. The main thing though were the shelves... so i had somewhere to put the stuff that's currently on my bed. I also went food shopping, but bared in mind the lack of fridge. Mostly canned food, but some of it was cold... to be eaten within 24hrs (I'm working on it.) I put the shelves together and went out for a drink and some more pool. Checked my e-mail after the pub closed, with the intention of going home to fetch food, before departing to mates house to watch some DVDs.

This is what I've been leading up to.
Just thought you might like a little diary kinda thing, lol.
Background information helps i guess.

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First off, to get it out of the way, I left my keys behind, stupidly, before i went to mates. This is why I'm writing an lj entry at this time of the morning. It's now 6.06am.

I collected my food into a bag, and... "i don't know how it happened, but it happened anyway." I think she called me over or something. But anyways, I found myself in an uncomfortable silence, standing next to Liz, both of us looking down the hall into the livingroom. She uttered the words "we've got to do something about this." I should of said 'stuff you' right there and then... but i know that would of made me a bit of a prick. I just stood there, rather uncomfortably... knowing that was her mess... and she expected me to 'help' her clean it up. She started going on about how she works 45 hours a week (her choice, not my problem... including sleep... this still gives her 2+ days of free time. Not to mention... if she rinsed out her cups after using them, and generally tidied up after herself, the mess would never accumulate to such a degree.) She said she'd clean up as much as she could in the morning before she went to work and she'd like me to clean up the rest when i get up. I know she'll just rely on the fact i'll be there to clean up what she doesn't... so she can not clean up as much as she likes.

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To give you some idea of what I'm talking about... there was a meal on the cooker, in a casarol(sp?) dish, that sat there from Sunday to Tuesday. Liz said not to touch it, as it made her ill eating it. By Tuesday it was a mould paradise. Glad she at least scraped it away. Besides that... she was joking and laughing about her room smelling like mould, and having cups and mugs of mouldy coffee and tea. And how she wakes up in the morning feeling ill. God knows what's floating around in her bedroom... spores of some kind. She's breeding super mould though... i tell ya. On wednesday there was a freshly used mug of tea or something, on the settee arm, but it had already developed an entire film of mould over it's surface. The only reason i go into the living/kitchin area now, is to acquire water from the tap... which was hard to do today, because the sink was full of water and mouldy cups. It really is sick. The inside of the fridge looked wrank on tuesday, but looked alright on wednesday. Either i had a nightmare it was wrank, or she's cleared it out. Although... by 'alright'... i still wouldn't put anything in there.

I forgot to mention, that on Tuesday night, she said she'd clean up everything on Wednesday. On Wednesday she woke me up to apologise for the mess and she'll clean it up when she got back from work.

But no. Lies.

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I sarcastically said "sure... i'll clean up stuff, whether it's mine or not."

Her response was "so you didn't eat dinner with us the other night?"

Yes, of course i did... i also offered to clean up, but you declined in some form of good manners.

This is what pisses me off. When people make you a meal, or do something nice for you... but throw it back in your face days later.

Fuck you.

She's gotten herself into this mess, and using me to escape from it isn't going to stop it happening again. She has to learn how to live properly. She's running away from her problems, and blaming me when she gets stressed out.

After some more silence, she turned to Matt and said "I think i'll stay around yours tonight" in some sort of attempt at a condescending remark.

I couldn't give a flying shit if you want to run away from your mess.

I think she's jealous i can actually survive on my own. My rooms going to look pretty fucking good when I'm done. I'll be able to live there, literally.

I just turned around, walked out the front door (hence forgetting my keys) and said over my shoulder "See ya!"