Quiet
Months ago, Trixie threw a cocktail party on a Friday night. She kept telling me she'd finish cleaning up from it soon, but soon didn't come until this weekend, when she packed and moved out. Yesterday she packed and moved out. Today she came back, supposedly to clean. I see no evidence of this alleged cleaning though.
Her bathtub is dirty. The cheese that got mashed into the carpet the night of the cocktail party is still there. Luckily, the carpets are being shampooed on Wednesday, so it will finally come out.
Last night when Trixie was packing, she unplugged her telephone, and it caused me to fall offline. I told her, and my phone that had been put away was promptly plugged in, but it didn't fix the problem. I called a friend who's a semi-computer geek to ask if she could suggest any quick fixes over the phone, and we began trouble-shooting.
Trixie arranged for Old Guy to come over and fix the problem, so my friend and I hung up. I was sitting on my bedroom floor reading when I heard Trixie asking Old Guy to come over as soon as he possibly could, so she wouldn't have to listen to my bitching anymore.
Bitching. Really? I absolutely agree that Trixie has the total right to take her phone. It's hers! But when you do something that, for whatever reason, causes someone else a problem, I think it's reasonable that you fix that problem.
Old Guy showed up, and two minutes later my internet connection was restored. When I asked him what had happened, he hesitated and Trixie blushed, and he brushed me off with, "Oh, a couple of wires were crossed." I thanked him for fixing the problem so quickly, and went back in my room.
Today when I saw Trixie on my way out, she just looked at me for a second, and then went back to her "cleaning" without saying anything. And when I came back, she was gone.
And now it's quiet. Of course I'm freaked out at the idea of having to pay the rent by myself. But for right now, the quiet is beautiful. And it's not just that it's quiet. It's the happy knowledge that at no point is somebody going to unlock the door and walk in. Nobody will decide to run the noisy dishwasher at midnight. Although I have said (and still maintain) that Trixie was the best roommate I've ever had, this experience has really solidified for me that the next time I move, it's going to be to a one-bedroom. This roommate shit is not for me. It's really, really not.
Her bathtub is dirty. The cheese that got mashed into the carpet the night of the cocktail party is still there. Luckily, the carpets are being shampooed on Wednesday, so it will finally come out.
Last night when Trixie was packing, she unplugged her telephone, and it caused me to fall offline. I told her, and my phone that had been put away was promptly plugged in, but it didn't fix the problem. I called a friend who's a semi-computer geek to ask if she could suggest any quick fixes over the phone, and we began trouble-shooting.
Trixie arranged for Old Guy to come over and fix the problem, so my friend and I hung up. I was sitting on my bedroom floor reading when I heard Trixie asking Old Guy to come over as soon as he possibly could, so she wouldn't have to listen to my bitching anymore.
Bitching. Really? I absolutely agree that Trixie has the total right to take her phone. It's hers! But when you do something that, for whatever reason, causes someone else a problem, I think it's reasonable that you fix that problem.
Old Guy showed up, and two minutes later my internet connection was restored. When I asked him what had happened, he hesitated and Trixie blushed, and he brushed me off with, "Oh, a couple of wires were crossed." I thanked him for fixing the problem so quickly, and went back in my room.
Today when I saw Trixie on my way out, she just looked at me for a second, and then went back to her "cleaning" without saying anything. And when I came back, she was gone.
And now it's quiet. Of course I'm freaked out at the idea of having to pay the rent by myself. But for right now, the quiet is beautiful. And it's not just that it's quiet. It's the happy knowledge that at no point is somebody going to unlock the door and walk in. Nobody will decide to run the noisy dishwasher at midnight. Although I have said (and still maintain) that Trixie was the best roommate I've ever had, this experience has really solidified for me that the next time I move, it's going to be to a one-bedroom. This roommate shit is not for me. It's really, really not.
Labels: Potential Depth, Technical Difficulties, Trixie, Turtle-in
posted by Green at 1/13/2008 09:29:00 PM
5 Comments:
WOW. So, does that mean that Trixie did something deliberately to the connection? Weird...
P.S. One of the reasons I knew Mr. Plain(s)feminist was the one for me is that he was the only person I could stand to live with.
Uh, crossed wires? Isn't that electrician jargon for " the bitch has been using the phone and letting you pay?" I'd give your bill a run through is I were you.
Shame it turnes so sour with her.
Roommates, housemates, spouses, family, it's all the same. The diplomacy that starts a relationship of any kind, gets worn thin until there are no holds barred.
Good luck finding a smaller place. Less to clean too!
Sorry to hear about this... sucks.
I haven't had a roommate in 3 years now. Its, wonderful :)
I really firmly believe that we reach a point in our lives when we should no longer have to suffer with roommates to whom we are not married. After living in two HUGE houses (6 roommates each) and then having an utter disaster of a roommate when I first moved to Chicago, I swore I would never live with anyone (except John, I guess) ever again. Enjoy the quiet!
The quiet of living alone, especially after not-so-ideal roommate situation, is one of the best feelings out there. Enjoy! Hopefully, you can relocate to one-bedroom situation soon?
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