Sometimes I hate my life....

I feel like shit today. I think I'm a bitch.

Last night, I got home from work, and the first thing I did was check to make sure that my roomie (not so smart cousin Bill) was not home. And was disgusted at how pleased I was when I discovered he was not. I was completely revolted when I noticed that he had made a huge mess before he left for work. So I cleaned it all up as I fumed. (I have somehow become a neat freak, which scares me, as it goes against my entire life's pattern.) I even did the unthinkable. I went into his room to check for dishes. Normally, I would find that a huge invasion of privacy, but for some reason, I felt justified in doing so last night. Then I baked banana bread, and swore at it when it would not come out of the pan.

I started a batch of chocolate chip cookies. Then NSSC Bill comes home. And turns off the timer on the microwave, just so he can warm up his effing chilli. Which stank worse than any kind of alcohol induced vomit I have ever been around. Made me want to bash his head in. At least rub his face in it. So he makes a huge mess all over the kitchen I have JUST cleaned, and he has the audacity to stand there and laugh about it! Oh, man, was I ever steamed. To top it all off, the cookies that were in the oven burnt. So the smoke detector goes off. GOSH I hate that sound. I think that must be the theme song for hell. Either that or an alarm clock beep. One of the two. Anyway.

So after I scrape all the burnt cookies into the garbage, totally clean the kitchen AGAIN, and take out the garbage, I am ready to relax for a little while before I take off to bed. I grab the new-to-me movie from my garage sale bargain bag from this past weekend, and go to pop it in MY vcr. Only to hear

What are you doing?

Well, I am going to watch The Rock. You know, Sean Connery, Nicholas Cage, take over of Alcatraz? I got it for a dollar and...

(abruptly cuts me off) You can't. I have a show to watch. (Grabs remote and starts flicking channels.)

I just about lost it. Instead, I bit my tongue, went to the bathroom, washed my face, and tried to calm down. Strolled back into the kitchen, finished putting everything away, and then said,

You know, you have a tv in your room. I can help you hook it up.

Why? That's stupid. I like this one better.

(AAARRRGGG!! Maybe because it is mine, and I want to use it. And because I am sick of you being retarded? But I did not say that out loud.) I'm sorry, maybe I should move it into my bedroom then. I think it might be better for me. Then I don't have to argue with you about it.

What do you mean? You can't just do that!

Watch me.

Needless to say, I got my way. And there will be a talk coming very soon about how things are going to go or he is going to go. My aunt, his mom, whom I love very much might hate me forever, but I will not live like this. It is my stuff, in our house, and he is free to use it, but not wreck it or act like he owns it. Not a chance!

So I think I am a bitch. It should not bother me. But it does.