The Bitch Is Back

I don't appreciate being lied to.

Particularly by one of my best friends.

Even more particularly by the person I live with, with whom I share a tiny little room on a tiny little campus.

I can handle honesty. If you want me to get rid of my chair, I probably won't, but your input is good. I care how you feel and I will try to adjust for you, as you and I share this space. However, when you lie to me and tell me you were here when they were conducting room checks and they said the chair is a "fire hazard" (which it is not, so get off your high horse), and the only reason you lied and said you were here was because you dislike my chair and you want to get rid of it, you better believe I am taking that chair out on every single occasion that arises from now on. I can't even wait to plunk myself in my comfy chair and just sit there and bask in the awesome of it's florescent greenness, how plush it is, how it envelopes everyone who sits there.

And my rug stays on the floor, the space in front of my closet is MY space. It gets dirty because PEOPLE WALK ON RUGS. If you don't like how dirty it is, you clean it. Or better yet SUGGEST THAT I CLEAN IT. I'm truly not a mind reader, I don't know if I give off that vibe or something, but I'm not. Women are so f*cked in the head sometimes.

If you want to adjust the space allocations in the room, that's awesome, let's do that, I don't really care. BUT THERE NEEDS TO BE COMMUNICATION.

Is it so hard to tell someone how you are feeling? I don't like catching people in their lies, I would rather believe everyone is generally good natured and raised well enough to appreciate the necessity in telling the truth.

I'm not leaving this room, and I'm sure as hell not going to let myself be walked all over. No sir. Please do not lie to me out of one side of your face, and out of the other tell me we are friends. I'm not friends with liars.

So why don't you just fuh-loat owhn. God I can't even stand it.