Welcome to our blog (our being me and my bro). We live in a lovely house, in a nice part of Belfast and life is peachy. But, we have one problem. It's about 5'2 with long dark hair and the worst immune system i've ever seen. We had some bad experiences with housemates before, so when the current tennant (who did very little around the house, walked into rooms without knocking and most disturbing of all, never showered) was asked to leave, we decided the best bet was to advertise online and get our new roomie that way. So after a little searching and a few weirdo's coming to view the room, we found Cazbot. She seemed normal enough for the first time, we all got along rather nicely but slowly, she started to piss us off.
It began with small things, she started smoking now and again in the house, she talked through my tv shows, she wears jeans which show her whole ass and then it spiralled out of control. The person who was told it's a non smoking household started chain smoking in the kitchen. The clothes got more and more gross, the long hair was found attached to everything...ever washed dishes and noticed someone else's hair wrapped around your hand? We have, and it's not fun.
She also claimed to be a good cook and asked how much cupboard space we'd have for her things (some of which are out of date by a year or two...) but she does NO cooking whatsoever. And she doesn't even do the dishes when someone else cooks for her.
So what went from being a fairly stress free, happy house descended into somewhere I felt unwelcome and like I shouldn't be there. As of today, it's 215 days until she leaves, and it won't be a moment too soon. I don't know how much more of this all I can take without flipping out. Not using dishes means you don't have to wash them. Eating my food means you have to help with the dishes. Not immediately, but within 3 days would be nice.
Also, stop being such a whine. Hypochondriac doesn't quite cut it in this girls case. A new day, a new illness. I could list them, but it'd be much easier to get one of those health encyclopedias and take a good ole read. So far this week, we've had "the worst period pain yet" which involved her sitting in her pj's for days with a hot water bottle, we've had the cold AND tonsilitis. Good going considering it's only Wednesday.
She's also dating a guy I had a holiday romance with, and i'm not afraid to admit I was gutted it was just a holiday thing. So the pair of them dissappear off upstairs and lets just say there isn't much privacy in this house. Walls are like paper. Also, she does this thing where she sits next to me on the sofa, breathing like Darth Vader and i'm beginning to think she's about to murder me.
And back to the sofa. She does nothing. She has a job which involves taking notes in lectures for students with Dyslexia. Fair enough. Until she mentions that she was diagnosed with Dyslexia. If anyone can explain to me how this works, i'll buy you dinner. So her life basically revolves around the sofa. It's moulded to her shape and she sits surrounded in tissues, cold remedies, hot lemon water and throat spray. She also has this thing of butter which I refuse to put in the fridge (prob coz it's unhygenic) but it lies on the worktop all day, not wrapped up or anything and she puts it on her sandwitches. Boke.
For now, that's all folks. It was a big big rant, and well done to anyone who was captivated until the end, but it was something I needed to do before I went completely off my rocker.
We'll use this blog as a safe home, where we can vent our angers about the housemate from hell.
ps. it's been a few hours (2) since she got up and already there are 2 glasses and 1 cup on the arm of 'her' seat.