Fuckfuckfuck.

I do so hate living with Cary.

See, this goddamned chore list he's put up...

First of all I HATE BEING TOLD WHAT TO DO. At least, I hate being told what to do by people that I haven't given that privilidge.

So he puts up this chore list without actually asking any of us.

Secondly, he's very, very bad at communication. So if you forget or neglect to clean, he'll very bitterly stomp around the house and clean for you.

Even if you'd planned to do it that day.

So I didn't clean very well on Friday, and instead of asking me to do it today (I might note he didn't come home until Sunday; how the hell would he know if the place hadn't been cleaned? It was still fucking white and spotless), he stomps around the house and cleans it (although he was technically supposed to today anyway), and puts a big circle around the day that I didn't do very well.

Now. A couple weeks ago, I was supposed to clean. So I did, according to my standards.

What did Cary do?

Oh, went around the next morning and recleaned everything, because obviosly I'm not good enough at it.

SO WHY THE HELL SHOULD I CLEAN IN THE FIRST PLACE, IF HE'S JUST GOING TO REDO IT? HUH?

That's what I'd like to know.

Fuck. I hate living here. He's like a fucking woman, with bad female logic.

"If you don't know why I'm mad, I'm not telling you..."

FUCK.

FUCKfuckin'mcFUCKFUCK.

.

Rosie.

Before&After