Babying Adults and Criticism

I’m criticising people’s stories based on the first chapter of them. I’ll give you my honest opinion of whether I thought it was good or bad and why. Link me the story you’d like me to check out and I’ll try to get them all done before tomorrow. One per person! This isn’t recommended if you have a thin skin.

Now for the actual blog…
I love my housemates and all, but I live with fucking slobs. It’s mainly a kitchen issue, but the bathroom is somewhat a victim too. Anyway, my landlord came over because one of my housemates is moving out (the majority are on exchange). I’d like to mention now that my landlord is not someone you want to run into. She gains sick pleasure from lecturing us in broken English about issues that do not pertain to us – a 10 minute rant is practically orgasmic for her.

After discovering the post-apocalyptic warzone that is our kitchen, she immediately latched onto the first person in her range of vision, me. She knows I didn’t do this shit because I’m an annoying clean-freak and the dishes I do use I keep in my room, like a hoarder, but apparently I need to remind my housemates to clean up their messes, or do it for them if this is ineffective.

For starters, I’m living with adults. I mean, I’m the youngest person here and I’m 20, the eldest is 25. I’m not going to chastise a 25 year old, nor am I going to clean up his fucking mess. There’s a reason I haven’t had kids (well, one of many) - I don’t want to be responsible for someone else. They’re fucking adults and they can take care of themselves. God, why can’t she just talk to them about it? She keeps texting/calling me about it and I’m ready to give myself a lobotomy.

I pay my rent, I don’t break things or shoot up heroin. Leave me alone.

Holy shit, writing about this just pissed me off further.