What about that laundry detergent?

Way back when, when I first moved out from my parents, living in a little rat hole with slanted floors, one day I invited one of my female friends over to do her laundry. I don't exactly remember what the deal was. Probably just as simple as her not having a washing machine. Well, along with the rat infestation and hand wood floors, slanted though they were, we had a washer and a dryer. When you live in a rat hole with roommates that never do the dishes and leave their dirty underwear with skid marks on the floor of the bathroom, it's important to at least have a washer and dryer, so you don't have to lug all of your clothes to a laundry mat, because you obviously can't even afford a car.

So, here I am with this slinky tall sexy girl that's an artist, sitting on the couch, talking, and in come my roommates. I don't really think it's that big of a deal to let a friend do their laundry at your house, or use your shower, or even stay over. Surprisingly, not everyone is as laid back as me. They can leave dishes in the sink to mold for weeks, but I can't let a friend use the washer and dryer. They made a big huff about it, and told her to leave some money in the jar on the washing machine for laundry detergent.

I didn't really think about it at the time, but then for some reason it just popped into my head a few minutes ago. I bought the laundry detergent. I put most of the groceries in the house. I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen when I first moved in, then occasionally before I'd make a meal for some friends, but otherwise pretty much didn't eat there. And when I did, I made sure to wash at least my dishes afterwards, because otherwise I wouldn't have anything to eat on. I even paid a female friend of mine to clean the kitchen once for us.

Roommates...can't live with them...because you're literally dying inside when you do...

Nowhere near as bad as it was where I lived...
_{Photo by Steven Depolo November 26, 2015 CC BY 2.0 (source)}

Oh, and I was also paying almost as much as everyone else, but living in a room the size of a walk in closet. And not even a very big one. My head touched one wall and my feet the other when I laid down to sleep.