I used up all my deep, philosophical insight (no really) on my guest blog post over on Lucienne Diver’s blog. So you should go read it. Because the only thing I could think of to write for MY blog this this morning was the joys of sharing a refrigerator.
1) Someone is always eating your stuff. I know that when you’re married, what’s yours is mine, blah blah blah. But seriously. When I take a break from writing at midnite and go to the freezer to reward my work with a spoonful of Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, I want to find some Mint Chocolate Chip ice cream, and not the crappy fat free stuff that no one likes.
2) People don’t put things back in logical order. The refrigerator is designed for certain stuff to go in certain places. It works better that way. When you stick stuff in all havey cavey, one can’t find it, or one thinks one is out and buys more (see below), and two, it makes a cluttered, messy fridge and gives me a headache. (And yes I do have a spot on the couch where no one can sit but me. Why do you ask?)
3) People don’t use the last of something before opening a new one. I looked in the overcrowded fridge door the other day, and there were THREE open jars of salsa. "What’s wrong with this picture?" I said. "Well," says Mr. RCM, "I opened a new jar by accident." Me: "And the third jar?" Him: "I think that’s old." Me: "So why not throw it out?" (THe same could be said for the extra open jar of jalapenos, can of adobo, and the jar of salad olives which is mostly just pimento.) Which leads me to…
4) The useless amount of product left in the jar/bottle/carton so that the offender will not have to be the one to rinse out the container for recycling. This also goes for leftovers left WAY too long, because throwing them out would mean washing the container. And people get away with it, because they get pushed into the back of the fridge and hidden (see point #2).
5) No matter how redundant the contents, they are never exactly what you need. This morning I went to make myself some cereal, and we have FOUR cartons of milk and a bottle of some kind of liquid yogurt stuff my mom bought. One is dairy milk, which I can’t drink that much of, and of the three kinds of soy milk, none are appropriate for my cereal–they’re all flavored. *grumble* So everyone has their own milk but me.
Which is, of course, what spurred this extremely whiny post on the hazards of cohabitation. And of course you know *I* have absolutely no annoying, passive aggressive habits that make me hard to live with.
So, make me feel better. What does your roommate, significant other, parent or sibling do that drives you nuts? Go ahead and dish. I won’t tell on you.