I will eat one of his food if that boyfriend of my sister's doesn't stop eating my food that I pay for. It's not what we get in the weekly shop, that's communal, but what I pick up for myself. To only be eaten by myself.
I had thought that declaring that I was going to live on tuna and that it wasn't bought during the weekly shop would be enough that it wasn't for him to eat. And the fact that it was in the drawer that I had declared was only for myelf.
But, oh no. He just goes and eat all my tuna anyway. I had six cans in the cupboard. I ate one. I have just checked to have one of my last meals of the night, and have discovered that instead of having five cans left, I have two. Two.
So where did the other three go? My sister doesn't eat tuna, and she knows that it's mine anyway. So if she wants tuna, then she will ask me for it. She won't sneakily eat it and then declare that it's was for the entire household.
That only leaves him.
This the second time he's done it, even though I told him that it was mine. And I'm sick of it.
I want out. I can't wait until I move out of this damn house and get away from him. If it wasn't bad enough that we're snarking at each other at every available moment (he declared tonight that my bookstore was a discount bookstore and nothing else), now he's eating my food. And complaining when I don't clean the dishes to his standard. The bloody dishes were clean. The small scrape was from long before I cleaned them that night, but would he listen to me? Oh no.
Just left another note.
I'm out in January. Shane and I are moving to an apartment temporarily as we try to find more pernament living accomodations. We can only stay in this apartment for around six months and then we need to be out so that the owner can renovate it. It's getting completely demolished, along with the rest of the building.
Deep breath.
I'm just sick of how he makes me feel in my own house.
Kya |
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