Friends of the family and last-minute house guests "Dan and Erica," who I don't know from Adam, roll in at 9:30 on a Friday night with their sleeping child and kick me out of the room I'm in (which happens to be the only room with a t.v. and a computer in it) and glare at me when I close a door too loudly or speak above a whisper. No t.v., no computer...no, no, it's fine. I'll just go...read. Quietly. No, I adore doing school work on Friday nights, really. So much for my quiet evening being snowed in with Netflix.
Then, nine hours later they left for the airport, but not before eating my leftover mac and cheese from the fridge that I had just made that night and was really looking forward to having for lunch today, and, I swear, stealing my roommate's Tupperware container. What really irks me is either they thought they were eating mac and cheese that had been in the fridge for over a week (ew), or they knew it was mine and they ate it anyway. Bastards. And the Tupperware...well, the last I knew it was in the dishwasher and now it's not. Now I have to explain to my roommate that this is the second piece of her Tupperware set that I've lost (though it's probably not fair to call it a "set" anymore, and "lost" doesn't seem like the right word either, although it amounts to the same thing). She's probably thanking her lucky stars right now that she's moving out in 5 days, and crossing her fingers for better, more responsible roommates.
I'm never house-sitting again.