easy stomach...don't turn over now...easy does it...

Okay, how bad is it when I need to come to work in order to escape the stress of being in my apartment? Because after last night I was starting to contemplate the merits of sleeping in Laura's suiteroom for the remainder of the year. (all names have been changed just in case) Whenever OCD has problems, she takes it out on the rest of us by saying we're not keeping the apartment clean enough for her. I'm used to this passive agressive bs and have come to try and deal with it. But when fucking Shrek has to jump on the bandwagon and give of all things a dishwashing lecture (considering she does dishes about as often as Haley's comet is visible). And the apartment isn't hospital sterile, but it's clean enough. Yes, it kinda needs to be vaccumed. But that's not a crisis situation. And OCD needs to decide if the messy floor bothers her more than the fact that no one else has her compulsive need to clean. No one wants to point fingers, apparently, because who needs an actual fight that can be over in a matter of days when we can have MONTHS of petty sniping?

*sigh* if it weren't for Carly & Tim, I'd go insane. They feed me and make me laugh and comisserate with me about how much things SUCK around here. Three more weeks...three more weeks...

this is why after 3 days of being back at school, I'm homesick already. I got spoiled by growing up in an atmosphere of honesty, consideration, fairness and the attitude that if it's not clean enough for you, then clean it yo'damn self. Yes, I know that my mom ends up with much of the cleaning, but she always asks for help when she needs or wants it and when she complains, it doesn't involve shrieking, blame and tantrums. This place is all so 'you did' and 'you didn't do' and I'm sick of it. So sick it's making me sick. I think I'm going to have to take a pepcid soon. :P

when does it ever end?

easy stomach...don't turn over now...easy does it...

Okay, how bad is it when I need to come to work in order to escape the stress of being in my apartment? Because after last night I was starting to contemplate the merits of sleeping in Laura's suiteroom for the remainder of the year. (all names have been changed just in case) Whenever OCD has problems, she takes it out on the rest of us by saying we're not keeping the apartment clean enough for her. I'm used to this passive agressive bs and have come to try and deal with it. But when fucking Shrek has to jump on the bandwagon and give of all things a dishwashing lecture (considering she does dishes about as often as Haley's comet is visible). And the apartment isn't hospital sterile, but it's clean enough. Yes, it kinda needs to be vaccumed. But that's not a crisis situation. And OCD needs to decide if the messy floor bothers her more than the fact that no one else has her compulsive need to clean. No one wants to point fingers, apparently, because who needs an actual fight that can be over in a matter of days when we can have MONTHS of petty sniping?

*sigh* if it weren't for Carly & Tim, I'd go insane. They feed me and make me laugh and comisserate with me about how much things SUCK around here. Three more weeks...three more weeks...

this is why after 3 days of being back at school, I'm homesick already. I got spoiled by growing up in an atmosphere of honesty, consideration, fairness and the attitude that if it's not clean enough for you, then clean it yo'damn self. Yes, I know that my mom ends up with much of the cleaning, but she always asks for help when she needs or wants it and when she complains, it doesn't involve shrieking, blame and tantrums. This place is all so 'you did' and 'you didn't do' and I'm sick of it. So sick it's making me sick. I think I'm going to have to take a pepcid soon. :P

when does it ever end?