I hate my roommate.
Remember how I said that he was all depressed and stuff because he had a fight with his girlfriend on his birthday?
Well, around 11 PM, just before I went to bed, he mentioned to me that a couple of his friends were picking him up to take him out for a drink. I said, "So you're going out, right?" And he said yes. So I go to bed, then around 1:30 AM I am awakened by loud talking and laughter outside my bedroom door.
Pissed, I go outside my room and see the roommate, this one guy friend of his that I met a couple of days earlier, and two girls. They were all obviously drunk. I was so mad that I didn't say a word and just slammed my door shut. I couldn't go back to sleep. They did quiet down, but the unwelcome visitors didn't leave until 2:30 AM.
I went back outside to find the dumb roommate passed out on my living room couch. I turned all the lights off and went to bed.
This morning at around 7:00 I made sure I made a loud racket as I was feeding the dog and getting ready for my day. The roommate woke up from his drunken stupor and said, "Gee, I was so drunk last night." I just looked at him and said, "I meant it when I said there will be no hosting of friends here at my house."
Right now it's lunchtime and I'm home. He's sobered up. He said, "Hey, I'm sorry about last night. I just got really drunk on my birthday." (Notice how he just innocently inserted "my birthday" in that apology.) I said, calmly, "Yeah, just absolutely no hosting of get-togethers here, okay?" And he said okay.
So we'll see how it goes. Last night was his one and only get-out-of-jail-free card. Any more incidents like this (or if I even see him hosting friends here on a weekend afternoon) and I will declare him in default of the rental agreement and tell him to move out.
I'm really angry at myself, actually. I should never have agreed to let a friggin' 24-year-old move in here. I should have looked for a middle-aged spinster librarian (who doesn't have a cat) as a roommate.