Moving into college and then moving into an apartment has led me to get to know myself in whole new ways. I've discovered how I establish routines, how I can actually fend on my own, how to do healthy groceries and cleaning, what makes me happy within my own set-up surroundings, and above all, what makes me tick.
I've discovered that the pet peeves I thought I had before coming to college were nothing--a mere spec of dust in the plethora of things that seriously bug me in astounding ways--things like: leaving out dirty plates for more than a day, the collection of trash, the placement of items in places where they clearly do not belong. These things seriously have a way of pushing my buttons remarkably fast, especially when the other party involved knows of them and still does not put in an effort.
But of that, I can manage. I can pretend to ignore it and go about my day. I can jokingly call out attention to it, or organize the things the way they were meant to be. But there is one thing, one particular thing, that I just cannot handle, and it so happens that it is the specialization of my current roommate in the art of annoying me. Seriously, if this girl could major in annoying the person she's living with, might as well hand her a diploma and parade her along the university grounds because BING! she's done it!
What is this heinous activity you ask? Well, let me illustrate you: My roommate, never in the four going-on five months that we've been living here has changed the toilet paper roll. Not even while I was way on Spring Break and we were down to our last roll. She'll finish the roll up, and leave the lonely carton in the dispenser, not even bothering to get a fresh roll. At first I thought that she was distracted, so I changed it without question. Then, when my annoyance grew, I started placing a fresh roll next to the dispenser, as if to give her the hint that it would be delightful and lovely if she changed it herself. This proved unsuccessful, as of all the times I've done it, she continues using the roll and leaving it around different places but the dispenser, still occupied by the sad gray carton, making me so compulsive that I've had to do the deed myself.
However, I thought that this week things might change. I was aware that we were approaching the end of our last roll of toilet paper. No one had mentioned anything, but the feeling of impending doom was among us. I, as purchaser of the last rolls of toilet paper ever, decided that I would ever so cunningly hold my nature callings for campus runs, as our roll was ready for its last deed of service this morning. I thought--HA! Great! She'll use it all up, and realize that we need more toilet paper, getting more rolls from the student center! Spoiler alert? I was dead wrong.
You have to understand that I left my apartment at 6:45am this morning. I don't come back until late hours of the night as I'm usually hauled up somewhere trying to study. When I finally got back to my apartment at 9:30pm after a long and exhausting day, I wanted to take a rightful pee in my own personal bathroom. It is natural to expect at least a crappy-brand toilet roll to make due in the time being!
But I was met with the now finished grey cardboard roll.
I checked my phone--no text to warm me of this travesty! "No--I'm sorry, could you pick up some on your way home?" And it is not to say that she hadn't talked to me today; she had texted me earlier to ask me a question about her future housing situation. You must understand my confusion and feeling of betrayal by not being able to enjoy the facilities of my own bathroom!
I quickly called my friend for a ride to the store to get some toilet paper, and after much ranting about this same ordeal, my friend decided my roommate did these things on purpose. She also cunningly suggested that, "you should keep the rolls in your room, and every time you go, just take one with you and then put it right back!" I of course dismissed this idea fast thinking that it was too mean, but still had the thought lingering in the back of my head--that would teach her! I thought.
Once I got back to my apartment I quickly ran up the stairs and settled in for the night. As I went to the bathroom to remove my make-up, I noticed something that hadn't been there before; on the bathroom sink there was a more than half-way used roll of toilet paper--note that it was not on the dispenser (seriously, though)--used for her convenience when she needed it to and our bathroom supply was out! TRAITOR! I went back to my room, only to listen to her come out of hers and go into the bathroom. Not to my surprise upon checking again, the beaten roll of toilet paper had mysteriously disappeared!
That toilet paper AUTOCRAT!
Needless to say, I have an 8-pack of toilet paper rolls hiding under my bed, and I'm ready to go all WWI on it.
Let the toilet paper games begin.
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