Sanitation or Bust

It’s a quiet weekday morning. The birds are chirping and the sun is shining. I walk towards the kitchen and take a deep breath only to be alarmed by the ripe stench of spoiling food filling my nose. Unfortunately, this is a typical occurrence for me while living in residence.

Roommates are a fact of life. It’s a rite of passage to learn to live with other people that aren't your family. It is continuously a struggle to live with people you don’t know whether they are wonderful or terrible. I’m not saying my roommates are terrible but, when there are dirty dishes and garbage everywhere, I tend to get a little short on patience. All I am asking for is a little more concern on their parts for the cleanliness of our kitchen. Every morning I wake up to the dreadful sight of a sink filled with dishes and a countertop covered in dirty pots and pans. By the evening time these piles only increase and I have become completely fed up with it. My evening routine usually goes as follows; I quickly make my food, eat and clean my dishes in the cramped corner of the sink so as to not torture myself with the smell and sight of our kitchen longer than I have to. Once that is done I run into my bedroom and take a deep inhale of clean, breathable air.

One particularly defining moment was one evening when I wanted to make myself pasta for dinner but, to no surprise, the kitchen sink and stove were completely covered in dirty dishes. However, I wouldn't let this mountain of disgust hold me back from my meal. I mustered up a great deal of courage and stuck my hands in the murky, rank dishwater in the sink and began washing the dishes I needed to use for cooking. Following this, I cleared off enough space on the stove to see the glimmering hope of a single burner. I turned it on and cooked my pasta. Once the pasta was cooked a realization came upon me. How was I going to drain the pasta? There was absolutely no space, even with the dishes I had cleaned out of the way, for me to do this. So, I took the pots and dishes I needed into the bathroom and continued preparing my meal in there. I strained the pasta and plated my food on the bathroom countertop feeling a sense of pride and accomplishment for having achieved my goal even in the face of adversity. As a final act of defiance, and since there was no room in the sink, I left my dirty dishes in my roommates’ bathroom sink as I nice surprise for when they returned home.

Now, you’re probably wondering how I can live like this; and I must agree that this is no way to live. Therefore, I finally decided to take matters into my own hands and talk to my RA. Together, with my roommates, we've made an agreement that at least half the sink must be kept empty so that I am able to cook and clean as I wish without having to go through countless struggles. Let’s just hope that my dirty dorm mates keep to their agreement. Please wish me luck on my next adventure into the unknown.