Notes left by roommates and landladies.

[Eater of Clowns]

Thanks Twid and Johnny.

And yeah, Johnny you nailed it, what I was going for. I don't think I would have been able to put it so succinctly. I guess I'm better at communicating through fictional vignettes than direct writing. 

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Coffee grinds in the sink again. We have a drip machine with a reusable filter so it's a really fine grind that you can't get rid of just by dumping the filter. Sometimes someone will dump them in the sink (we don't have a garbage disposal) and they'll get caught in the fine metal mesh drain protector. The little grinds jam themselves between the wires and it takes a lot of scrubbing to get them loose. The sink doesn't drain well until you do.

I grab a stack of post it notes from my desk and put one on the cabinet directly above the sink. "COFFEE GRINDS GO HERE -->" it points to the right. I make seven more post it notes with arrows pointing to the right. The line terminates above the garbage. "HERE \/" the final note reads.

I haven't slept in weeks and I have no idea why. I've tried eliminating blue light right before bed, I've tried associating the bed with sleep only, I've tried a hot shower before bed, I've tried giving up booze, I've tried giving up caffeine. None of them worked so I just started them all back up again.

I need milk for my cereal. The fridge has a note on it. "MAKE SURE THE DOOR IS CLOSED" it reads. Sound advice. I'll close the fridge door when you put the coffee grinds in the garbage, motherfucker. When you don't sleep enough nothing tastes right. I'm not sure if my cereal is Ultra Fiber Colon Fuck or Sugar Blasted Frosty Wangs. The milk is bad for all I know. The milk is water for all I know.

I don't have time to clean the coffee maker and make a fresh pot before my double shift so I hope my shower will do the trick. I don't bother shaving. A wad of greasy black hair greets me all tangled up in the drain. I don't have time to get another post it note so I just scream out "CLEAR THE FUCKING SHOWER DRAIN" and hope he hears me. I'll write the note later. Tomorrow. Next Sunday.

Flecks of flossed out tooth gunk are plastered onto the bathroom mirror. I comb my hair through them as fast as I can.

The bus is going to be at the stop in fifteen minutes. The walk there takes five minutes. The bus is either five minutes early or five minutes late every day. I throw on my work clothes and rush to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a granola bar.

There's a note above the sink. "COFFEE GRINDS GO HERE -->" and a line of similar notes lead to the garbage. I must have left the grinds in the sink again.

I'll put my coffee grinds in the garbage when you start closing the fridge door, motherfucker.

With the risk of "ruining the joke" for a chance at interpretation...

This piece is nice not because of a kind of "unexpected multiple personalities ending" (which is cliche in itself) but rather because it metaphorically reveals a human basic flaw: egocentrically noting and getting angry at others flaws and quirks while ignoring one's own or pretending to not have any flaws oneself... so a typical scenario of inter-roomate conflict is in reality a mirror to a particular human behaviour, the devaluing of the other and the narcissistic ideation that one is perfect!

Bingo! Mr. Psych Degree Guy. 

[rong]

I liked it too - everything mr psych degree guy said plus it was written well and captivated my interest

[Anna Mae Bollocks]

Yes. It's like when people move into a place and scrub every inch, every slat on the blinds, while yammering about how filthy the former tenants were. And then never really clean again.

If you did it, it's no big deal.
If they did it, it's filth.

I suspect it has something to do with the mechanism that enables a person to sit in a small enclosed room full of incredible stench while taking a shit, but one whiff of somebody else's and they gag.

[Nephew Twiddleton]

Yes. It's like when people move into a place and scrub every inch, every slat on the blinds, while yammering about how filthy the former tenants were. And then never really clean again.

If you did it, it's no big deal.
If they did it, it's filth.

I suspect it has something to do with the mechanism that enables a person to sit in a small enclosed room full of incredible stench while taking a shit, but one whiff of somebody else's and they gag.

It is a really interesting phenomenon.

I've only written one note since I've been here and it's because one motherfucker drank almost a gallon of my milk over the course of a weekend, since I'm usually at Villager's on the weekend. By almost, I mean that I used some of the milk for my coffee, and slightly more than I used for my coffee was left.

It was annoying and a little disgusting. I don't see how one could consume that much milk in a 48 hour period.