I’ve been at work all day, and I expected to see my apartment perfectly the way I left it with my roommate this morning, right? Wrong. As soon as I got home, my roommate was in the middle of painting one of her art pieces. There was spilt paint all over the floors and even some on the walls, even she was covered in dryer paint. I hated messes. I hated anything unorganized

You’re going to clean this up, right? I ask in an irritated, yet serious tone