break in case of fire.

I hate roommates.  I would adore living with just my boyfriend and my cute little dog.  No more left-up toilet seats.  No more smelly dark yellow piss swimming around in the toilet bowl.  No more digging snow shovels out of the three feet of snow on our front yard, after a certain someone threw it from the sidewalk instead of walking the 10 feet to set it on our porch.  No more being kept awake by loud, powerpop music late at night.  No more washing dishes for anyone but myself.  No more buying toilet paper every other week because someone has to make a bowel movement several times a day, every day.  Oh, god, how wonderful it will be to live in a more reasonably-sized apartment; no more extravagant gas and electric bills.  And no more blown circuit breakers because everyone just has to have a mini-fridge in their bedroom.  When there's a regular sized one right down the stairs.  Jesus christ.  

I am so damn passive-agressive.  I have no balls, and I always let others walk all over me.  It's happened four times now.  But this time, I'm fighting back.  The old me lays down and becomes the welcome mat at the front door.  But the new me;  the new me takes the toilet paper from the bathroom, so that you can wipe your shit-stained ass with your smelly fingers.  :)