Tuesday, October 14, 2008
I fucking hate coming home to her cleaning the apartment, cleaning up everything of ours and nothing of hers. I hate how she leaves food out, for no reason, especially when its raw fucking chicken. Gross. I hate when she brings her loser fucking married boyfriend over and they totally take up the whole common area as if we don't ever want to watch tv or sit on a god damned couch once in a while. I hate coming home to her passed out on the couch, and her pretending that she wasn't sleeping, even though there is fresh drool dripping down her chin and a couch imprint on her face, that looks like it will never go away. And she always leaves the lights on. And the tv on. AT THE SAME FUCKING TIME. Oh, I hate how she always acts like she's soooo fucking busy and important. You're not. Get over it.
OK. I feel much better now.