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Family, Duty, Honor
Oct. 10th, 2012 01:15 amI've taken this quiz twice now, once before reading the books, and both times it's called me a Tully. Lysa is cray and Edmure's a total failboat, but Cat and Brynden are pretty cool?
I've taken this quiz twice now, once before reading the books, and both times it's called me a Tully. Lysa is cray and Edmure's a total failboat, but Cat and Brynden are pretty cool?
I'm pretty sure that, two days ago, I had 2/3 of a large bag of grapes in the fridge. I know this because when I got back to my apartment and tried to figure out what food I had to eat, I put a sandwich baggie of grapes in the freezer, because frozen grapes are the perfect summer snack.
The rest of my grapes? Nowhere to be found.
Maybe I left them out accidentally, or maybe they were growing stuff in the fridge, or something, and Flatmate thoughtfully got rid of them for me, idk. But, I mean... my grapes. I wasn't done with them yet. I had plans for those grapes -- frozen, delicious plans.
Things which are not okay:
- sodden paper towels still in the sink from when Flatmate broke a bottle of wine (neither of ours, apparently) on Tuesday morning
- dirty knives on the counters
- stuff congealing on the cutting board and the countertop
- old food in the dishwasher (having fallen off of unrinsed dishes) making it smell inside
- canned food still sitting out from yesterday's grocery run
- fully 3/4 of the fridge being devoted to the uncontrollable sprawl of Flatmate's food
- garbage disposal. 'Nuff said.
- me potentially having to have the "no trash in the sink" talk for the -- third? fourth? -- time
I am not my housemate's keeper. I cannot clean up after her. I will not clean up after her. I'm going to keep my things as fastidiously tidy and clean as I can, and I am not going to tidy the messes she makes.
At the same time, I can't let my kitchen be a pit of filth. And also -- My kitchen will make sense if it kills me, dammit.
Am I self-righteousing myself into an impasse?
I think this is me, and I think it may be showing. :\ ( Lawful Neutral picspam. )
The rest of my grapes? Nowhere to be found.
Maybe I left them out accidentally, or maybe they were growing stuff in the fridge, or something, and Flatmate thoughtfully got rid of them for me, idk. But, I mean... my grapes. I wasn't done with them yet. I had plans for those grapes -- frozen, delicious plans.
Things which are not okay:
- sodden paper towels still in the sink from when Flatmate broke a bottle of wine (neither of ours, apparently) on Tuesday morning
- dirty knives on the counters
- stuff congealing on the cutting board and the countertop
- old food in the dishwasher (having fallen off of unrinsed dishes) making it smell inside
- canned food still sitting out from yesterday's grocery run
- fully 3/4 of the fridge being devoted to the uncontrollable sprawl of Flatmate's food
- garbage disposal. 'Nuff said.
- me potentially having to have the "no trash in the sink" talk for the -- third? fourth? -- time
I am not my housemate's keeper. I cannot clean up after her. I will not clean up after her. I'm going to keep my things as fastidiously tidy and clean as I can, and I am not going to tidy the messes she makes.
At the same time, I can't let my kitchen be a pit of filth. And also -- My kitchen will make sense if it kills me, dammit.
Am I self-righteousing myself into an impasse?
I think this is me, and I think it may be showing. :\ ( Lawful Neutral picspam. )
