we all want to change the world

so sometimes i tend to overrepresent my circumstances. maybe not overrepresent, really, but guild a little bit so that people don't feel sorry for me, or like they need to do something to fix what's going on because i don't like people meddling with my life and whatever mess i'm in, i got myself into so it's really no one else's responsibility. if i was ever in trouble - like arrested, or things being reposessed trouble (somehow when i picture my future, i always assume that i am going to make some horrible mistake, or some horrible mistake is going to be made and somehow related to me, and i will end up in jail. i don't think i've ever done a single thing wrong that has merited jailtime, and i'm pretty sure i never would - not because i'm afraid of jail, although i am, but because that involves hurting another person pretty badly and as a basically good person i spend most of my time trying not to do exactly that) - i know that there are at least half a dozen people who would help me and still love me, even after giving me a stern talking-to. thankfully, never in my life have i been in that kind of trouble. while i am not awesome with money, i'm getting better and i've never actually had enough money to buy anything big enough to put me in debt far enough to have anything reposessed. also, i don't think anything i own is worth enough to erase that kind of debt anyway.

one way in which i've misrepresented my circumstances lately is my living situation. i live with four boys, which superficially is awesome. there are no passive-aggressive notes anywhere, ever, there's no kind of time limit on how long dishes can be in the sink, and the washer and dryer are always free. always. i'm never asked to turn anything down, clean anything up, or change in any way. i also like all of them, every single one, and i like hanging out with them. they are all good people and hilarious in their own ways, which is important. i never have to put up with friends of theirs i don't like, listen to music of theirs that makes me want to beat them up, or question their motivations for donning ridiculous clothing because they all have different but pretty good tastes in all of those categories.

those are the things that i tell people about when they ask how it's going, where i'm living and what it's like. the things i deal with daily, though, are forcing me to secretly hate the people that i live with and spend all of my time up in my room alternately pouting and being furious. the kitchen is an absolute atrocity. i used to eat frozen food almost exclusively because it was impossible to cook, but now, with the sink and the dish situation what it is, i pretty much just eat snack food. i'm dying to go home and eat a real meal. i feel sick almost all the time, but the thought of clearing myself a place big enough to fix something real just makes me lose my appetite. the living room and den are extensions of both the kitchen and my roommates' closets. discarded clothes, overdue library books, bike parts and sewing materials are littered across whatever areas pizza boxes and leftover chinese food don't have covered. i don't even want to discuss the bathroom. it's not just the mess, either - if it was just the mess, i would probably clean it up myself every couple weeks and then be disheartened when it looked exactly the same way two days later and fancy myself a bit of a cinderella. it's also the complete disrespect for any kind of schedule, boundary, or basic need. the minute my head hits the pillow, either the revived-from-the-80's song of the minute is blasting from my roommate's stereo, there is a major session accompanied by 60's pyschedelic garage across the hall, or band practice is starting up. there is always someone jumping up and down the stairs, practicing guitar, or talking loudly on their phone somewhere in the house pretty much anytime i want to be sleeping, which is more and more often now that i don't interact with my roommates pretty much at all. if you lend anything, don't bother trying to get it back, at least not in the condition it was in when you owned it. if you're lucky, you'll find it downstairs either scratched to hell or taken apart. don't even think about buying any food that is mildly delicious or comes in attractive packaging - it will be gone. this is my biggest problem with living here, and i have told them all several times that this can't continue. they inhabit this shithole on their parents' dimes; they can go on a gourmet shopping spree anytime they want. they all eat out with some regularity and keep at least $40 worth of food on their shelves at pretty much all times. i have a job and pay for my food with my hard-earned money, and they steal it right out of my mouth. every time i go down to the kitchen, something else is gone. i have thought about keeping my food in my room, but there's no space for it - i have thought about getting some kind of foot locker for it, but every time i think about that it just makes me furious. i pay rent to live here, why should i need to take measures to protect myself from theft in my own home?! it's so disrespectful it disgusts me. i can hardly think about anything except how much i hate it here. i would move out in a second, but i love living with jake and don't want to stick him with my half of the rent, and also the rent is way cheaper than it would be anywhere else living on my own. so i've come to a crossroads - do i boobytrap my food withy laxatives and ipecac, duct tape abandoned items to the couch, and label messes with the offenders' names, since frank discussions about my dissatisfaction have gotten me nowhere, or do i take a stand? what should that stand involve? maybe some kind of negotiation, where i let them have the living room and the bathroom if the kitchen situation changes and the stealing stops. but no human being should have to live this way, why should i settle for a half-assed attempt at revolution? my instinct tells me that a roundtable will have the same effects as the sincere anger i have expressed so far - absolutely none. guerilla tactics it is.