boxes full of stuff. No storage space. don't
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How to fix them:
Most Slobs are blissfully unaware of the effect they have on other
members of the household, and thus find it hard to change. Start by
turfing any paper plates in residence, insisting on daily showers for
all housemembers and if the Slob can manage that, it’s well on its way
Manifested in various
forms, the Borrower shows its true colors slowly. There’s the type
that actually asks, constantly putting you on the spot so you’re
forced to say yes. New jeans – yes. Make up remover – yes. Last of
your treasured breakfast cereal – yes. Yes! Yes! Yes! This pattern
continues until there is nothing left – the Borrower has literally
sucked you dry!
Then there’s the sneakier
type of Borrower, the sort who conveniently "forgets" to ask.
Slowly you realize your new shampoo is approaching empty. Your favorite
biscuits are a sorry mess of crumbs still sitting in the packet. And
your wardrobe now consists of exactly one pair of undies, a dirty
T-shirt, and a single tartan sock. At that point, you realize the Borrower has
blown town (and probably borrowed some money for the trip).
How to spot them:
Borrowers are always slurping surreptitiously from other people’s
orange juice cartons, pinching cigarettes or eating leftovers. Most live
by the motto: ‘They’ll never notice if I just take/eat/slurp that.’
How to fix them:
It would be fine if Borrowers occasionally bought a slab of beer for the
house, but they never do. There are two solutions for living with
Borrowers. 1) Hide your stuff. They’ll be stumped for a while, but it’ll
force them to buy their own shampoo/moisturiser/jelly beans. 2) Organize
a central house fund to which everyone contributes to pay for basic
items, so the Borrower is forced to pay his/her own way.
OK, OK. I admit to
having been one of these myself, in my youth. I lived at home with my
parents and was so desperately in love/lust with my then boyfriend that
I spent every night at his house. I had the sneaking-out-at-daybreak
thing down pat. But having since suffered many Unpaying Tenants as a
bona fide paying tenant, I now understand why the UT can be such a
nuisance. The Unpaying Tenant is usually the lover of someone who
officially lives in the house, and slinks in each night at around 11pm.
Thin walls make Unpaying Tenants more bothersome, but it’s a tricky
one to deal with. Flatmates’ lovers invariably come under a certain
unwritten code: "Thou shall not make trouble, in case thou get
lucky at some point in the future". Who’d want to jinx that?
walking this way
lounge . nourish .
. laze . home.