For the past seven months or so, most of what I’ve heard from you, my roommate, is you having sex. At first, I didn’t mind; you and your boyfriend were in the puppy stages—I understood. Plus, things were generally going better for me then. Really, at that point, I didn’t care that I was hearing you having sex three times a day.
Weeks passed—then months. I started giving you two some well-deserved shit in hopes that you’d get self-conscious and quiet down a little—no such luck. I addressed it directly once (even though I shouldn’t have had to, as I was under the impression that it’s basic etiquette to keep it down when people are in earshot, except on special occasions) and things quieted down—for about two days. Then he started up with being all fucking loud, too. It’s gotten to the point where I dread to hear anything along the lines of “I’m tired,” because I know what’s coming right after you go to bed, or even “I’m greasy,” because it might lead to showering together. Plus, I’ve been in a shitty mood for the past couple of months and coming home to this every day just compounds it. I no longer hear “uh, uh, UHHHH”; I hear “I hate my life, I hate my life, I HATE MY LIFE.”
Thank you, thanks a lot.