I just made my roommate clean up after herself before she left for work. How many more business days do you plan on soaking your dishes for? I asked. Where? She asked as she spun around in a circle in our small kitchen. Were they hiding on the fridge? Nope. Sitting on a shelf? Nope. Maybe the floor? Nope. I had to get up and point at them. They were beside the sink where they had been all of last week. Oh, sorry. She said. Then she finally washed them.
What the actual fuck was that? Task blindness? She was like a child trying to play innocent, like she didn’t notice the mess she had been avoiding for a week. It was ridiculous.
Loading comments...