Open Letter to my Boyfriend's roommate

Before I begin, I would like to clarify that I try to never say anything on my blog or to behind somebody's back that I would not say to their face. So whatever I say here, I would gladly say to this person's face.

Dear Boyfriend's Roommate,

I hate your dog. No, the dog is not that bad, besides the fact that he is poorly trained and getting fat, but that is your fault. I hate that you let him poop on the lawn and don't clean up after him. I hate that he sheds everywhere and you do not clean up after him.

I hate that you only do things like sweep up and mop when we ask you too, because "you don't care that much about cleanliness." I hate that you never wipe down the countertops after cooking, don't wash out OUR coffee pot after you use it, that you think doing somebody else's dishes is insufferable, let alone putting dishes away from the drying rack, even though we do those things for you. I hate that your dog leaves bones all over the kitchen floor and goes through the trash when we are away because you lock him in the kitchen and he gets bored. I hate that the freezer is full of meat you've shot, and that the fridge had rotting food in it that you denied was yours. And that's just the grievances about the kitchen.

I hate that 2 out of 3 light bulbs burnt out in the living room and we changed them without you saying thank you. I hate that the couch is covered in dog hair, that the TV is covered in dust. I hate that the only time the couch slip covers are washed are when I do them, that the heater is covered in dog hair. I hate that you leave your books and magazines all over the coffee table.

I hate that you hung the dartboard in the dining room, and have punched holes in the wall. I hate that you used the fireplace more than 4 times when no one else was home but expect us to all split the bill for the chimney sweep. I hate that you think dusting is unnecessary and refused to buy a vacuum, saying we could split it, when we only need it because of your dog.

I hate that you did nothing to help us rake up the leaves in the yard, and barely said thank you. I hate that you park your truck poorly sometimes. I hate that you take up more room than all of the rest of us combined, with your boat, and canoe, and four wheel drive truck.

But mostly, I hate that you do nothing. You have no job, you aren't taking classes. Occasionally you go fishing, or hunting, or boating, but can't take 10 minutes to run a broom down the hallway, or use fresh water to mop the kitchen. I hate that Drew and I are the only people to clean the house. But you don't care.

We may have let things slide in the fall and winter when everyone was busier, but it's unacceptable now.

I hope that you enjoy the disaster your apartment will be when you live alone.

Sincerely,
Emma