Personal Space (II)

Shortly after finishing my previous blog post, I shut my computer down and got all cozy in bed. I fell asleep promptly. Celine is coming over to my apartment tomorrow, and I'm pretty excited to have her over. No one in my family has seen my apartment in Seattle, so naturally I want it to be clean and fresh. I started cleaning after work on Friday already, and was planning to wake up a few hours early to finish cleaning Saturday morning.

After going out for dinner, I decided to stay home because I wanted to be rested so I could wake up and clean. After all, waking up before noon on a Saturday is a difficult and unusual task for me... and that's when I'm expecting Celine. So at 4 something in the morning, Matt and a friend come stumbling in making noises and talking loudly. I didn't know anyone was staying over, but fine whatever. It's not the first time. Matt comes into the bedroom and turns the light on to change. The light REALLY wakes me up. And I'm having a bizarre dream about JR having put Forrest into the washing machine for a bath. I'm slightly irritated but fine with it; I'm less irritated because I'm still trying to figure out why JR put Forrest in the washing machine. I get up to use the bathroom - oh no I can't because someone is in there. I wait a few minutes, and I really have to pee. He's still in there. I realize he's not coming out any time soon, so I have to use the bathroom in the lobby which is 3 floors down. I run down there to use it, run back up, and now I'm fucking wide awake. I toss and turn for an hour, and listen to puking sounds coming from the bathroom (that I just cleaned today, btw) angrily. Matt is passed out like a baby on the couch, the other one was sleeping on the toilet with the door open last time I checked, and no one turned any of the lights off.

So here I am, at 5:30 AM, unable to sleep. I'm getting up in a few hours to finish cleaning, and possibly to re-clean depending on the damage, and I am SO UNHAPPY. I recalled venting about room mate problems a few years ago via blog, so I looked up the old post. After reading through that, I've come to realize that I've made some progress in the past two years but not enough. For example, Matt now asks me 75% of the time before inviting people over, which is an improvement for sure. However, I think he should have given me some heads up that we were having a guest tonight, or known that maybe since I didn't go out with them maybe I didn't want to be waken up at 4:00 AM. And he knows that I use the restroom throughout the night. I think I've been too "cool" with everything up until now, and I'm paying the price.

And then there's the fact that I'd rather have our guest crash here drunk and causing a disturbance than driving home and getting a DUI. Obviously. And because I've made it clear that friends are welcome to crash here, I can't blame friends for doing so. Ultimately, I guess it's my fault. But this is fucking ridiculous. I can't sleep early and stay asleep in my own home, and I couldn't even use my own bathroom. This is so fucking ridiculous.

Personal Space

I've always had this thing about personal space. Whether it stems from a need to be territorial, or from growing up with plenty of it, there is certainly a need.

But then again I also like to share my personal space, so long as people ask for permission. Some people don't even need to ask for permission, it just depends on the closeness of the relationship.

So now that I have a room mate, our friends come over sometimes multiples times per week. And sometimes I know they're coming, and other times I have no idea that they're coming. And even though they're not here to hang out with me sometimes, I used to enjoy their company anyway and be excited to hang out. I used to think it was great, fun, exciting even! I think I was just happy to have friends in Seattle. Now I'm starting to realize that maybe this room mate thing isn't for me.

I'm starting to get irritated that they eat food without asking. Sure, they bring food over sometimes and share it with me. I get that, and appreciate it. And there are definitely times that I don't care at all about what they're eating of mine. But then there are OTHER TIMES when they eat things I'm planning to eat for lunch the next day, or was really excited about eating. Or they eat my favorite foods without even enjoying it, because they're high. And everything gets eaten all the same. I've stopped buying groceries now. IS THAT WHAT IT HAS TO COME TO?

Secondly, I can't stand it when someone asks to use my bathroom, and I say no, and they go ahead and use it anyway. Like seriously, I don't want to be a bitch and flip out, but it really fucking bothers me and it pisses me off when a friend thinks its funny to blatantly disregard my feelings. Why do people get to see my personal effects? When did I stop having a right to privacy in my own home?

Thirdly, I leave a password on my laptop for a reason. And I understand that some people don't, and really don't care if someone else uses their laptop. But I HAPPEN to LIKE privacy with my laptop, and if I didn't give a shit about people using my shit then I wouldn't have a password. RIGHT? Right. So today, I took a nap and left my laptop on in the living room. I didn't know people were coming over.

LO' AND BEHOLD

I COME OUT TO GET MY LAPTOP AND SOMEONE HAS BEEN USING IT.

What the fuck is going on. I guess everything is a learning experience. Having friends who don't give a shit about their personal space, probably won't help in my maintaining my personal space. Sometimes when you work customer service jobs you just want to go home and not talk to anyone. Hell, even if you don't work customer service sometimes you just want to come home and be as alone as possible. I'm at the point where I can't do that anymore here. I'm at the point where sometimes I don't even feel at home.

My gripe here is with my friends, and not my room mate. I don't mind if he eats my food, uses my shit, etc. So I don't know the best way to deal with it without losing the few friends I have in Seattle. And I don't think they'll understand. It fucking sucks. But at least I have a blog to vent about it.