Fucking roommates.

Wow.

I really fucking hate them. Like... it's unreal. Pretty much. I think of them and am filled with rage. Roommates. That I didn't even want, nor did I agree to.

By the way, Jordan, I am trying really hard to like you, but when you talk to them it makes me want to fucking kill you.

She's fucking lucky she got that job. And stupid ass B is having his grandparents pay his rent. I don't want their money, I want his. Not cool. Either way, it's money, but I'd rather they move out and his grandparents pay a stranger.

FUCK.

I'm just so fucking pissed off and it sucks because I can't say anything or Jordan will freak out at me again and make me feel really, really stupid. So I'm just going to come into my office from time to time and vent in here.

Also, move your fucking hockey sticks you stupid motherfucker before I throw them in the garbage! Swear to God. You've been here a week and they've been sitting in the same place. In MY living room. MOVE THEM. Of course, I asked Jordan when they were going to be moved yesterday and he told me not to start with him. And then later, we went out for supper - just the two of us - and he was like, I know, geez, I should just put them in the garage and not tell him. And I was like... are you fucking kidding me? You told me not to start... of course, I didn't say anything when he said that. I'm getting really sick of this house. I might actually go stay with mom for a while.


It's like... if they wonder why I ignore them all the time, or say as little as possible... I DON'T WANT YOU HERE! GET YOUR OWN FUCKING PLACE.

I'm just really pissed and frustrated because like... I love Jordan and for some reason he has a man crush on this guy... I can't stand him by the way. Like... at all, if it isn't obvious by my ranting. Fuck. Seriously. I just want out of here. He's gone to class... she drove him. I should be sitting with Jordan, but he's going to ask me why Mike's grandparents paying for his living arrangements pisses me off. So I don't want to go down there.

I just want to go to sleep. I might do that. Yeah. I might. Or, you know, go try and kill myself, either one. :P Except... you know, not.



And she was complaining about how the dishes aren't getting cleaned in the dishwasher. Jordan was like, that's because you guys overfill it. And she's like, no we don't. And he's like, yeah, you do.

Plus they put the utensils in standing up... like spoon end up. And KNIFE end up. It's fucking ridiculous. That's my theory on why the spoons are so disgusting after they're "washed". Cause they don't do it right. My way. Idiots. I just want to leave. I really do. But of course, I won't. I'll just continue ignoring them until they go away. Forever.

Dear Prudence... won't you come out to play? Dear Prudence... greet the brand new daaaaaayyyyyyyy. The sun is up, the sky is blue, it's beautiful and so are you, dear Prudence... won't you come out to play?

I really like that song. I'm going crazy, I'm pretty sure. Work is getting to me and so is home. Home has gotten to me since they moved here last week, though. No, before that. Because they were coming. Yeah. Like... if they weren't living with me, I'd like them okay because I wouldn't have to deal with them or their habits. LIVING WITH PEOPLE SUCKS. Especially when you hate them.