- Both toilets had paper in them. Even though I only use the upstairs one, you never know if a guest will need to use the other one.
- The throws on the sofas were put on properly, instead of stuffed down the cushions or draped on the floor.
- The sleeping bag in the living room was put away.
- The Leaning Tower of Crockery was put away. Or what I like to call, Kitchen Jenga.
- Both bins were emptied, and new bags were put back in...
- 6 month old open yoghurt was thrown away. Along with what turned out to be half the fridge.
- Shoulder length hair was pulled out of the bath plug hole.
- Post for people that don't live here anymore was thrown in the Recycling Bin.
- I also purchased new cloths, scrubbing thingys, washing powder and butter (all stuff included in the kitty).
You already know where this is going, don'tcha.
I came home this evening and picked up the post off the floor (Even though all 3 other people were home at the time. And the post arrives sometime before 10am). I wheeled my bike into a lit living room. The TV was on. a sleeping bag draped over the sofa. The lone plant on the fireplace looked at me sadly, no other forms of life were to be found. En route to the kitchen I picked up the pile of post off the shelf addressed to non-residents (that I swore I wouldn't pick up again) and tottered off down the hallway.* After I'd emptied the Recycling Bin I threw the post away.
Before washing up someone else's plates I noticed the the foundations had already been laid for a new Leaning Tower. One of the housemates came in as I was putting everything away, they stood and watched for a while and made small talk about their holiday. Then asked, "Do you know what's wrong with the downstairs toilet?". Apparently the flush had broken. The last user hadn't felt the need to fill up a bucket of water to remove the evidence, or let anyone else know. I briefly mused over the thought of anyone else actually fixing the flush. A wry smile gripped my dusty face.
With the shower in use, eating was the way forward. Picked up some pasta things with meat inside which turned out to be tasty. Read the property magazine that the delivery blokes keep putting through the letter box, even though there a damn sign on it saying No Junk Mail. After 25 minutes of waiting I decided to wash my plate, saucepan, grater & fork. A loud thump from above confirmed the lack of hot water coming out of the shower. Fuck it, nobody waits for me to get out and I only take about 5 minutes in there, I thought. Besides, you're only up there blocking the freaking plug again.
Picking up my work bag & bike gear I tottered up the stairs. Light beamed out of the little window above the bathroom door, someone else fired up the shower. For a moment I considered flushing the upstairs toilet, but fear of seeing a grey tube on the toilet roll holder made me stop.
Sitting on the corner of my bed, waiting to hear the bathroom light switch** I considered my options. Get a steel bath and some acid, or move out. And as luck would have it I received a phone call the other day with someone wanting a refurb on their bathroom! Fate, it seems, has taken control of the situation.
* I was in my cycling shoes. Heels aren't practical on bikes.
** Bathroom Morse Code. 1 lock click followed by cling-cling on the light means bathroom is empty. Cling-cling click means occupied.
For the enjoyment of the flappy things on the side on your bonce, here's Blur & She's So High. I prefer the live version I've got from the BBC in 1990 as it's a tiny bit faster, even so it's still a great choon!