I'm feeling a bit better now. I had a most productive day doing edits on my novel then went for a 10k run - all good things for clearing the head.

I've had a lot of worries on my mind lately - money stuff and job issues. On one hand I want to start earning the cash but on the other I want to get my novel finished and I want to have the time do it without fitting it in around work - I've done a first and second draft that way and I think it lacks cohesiveness because of it. But since I edited so well today, I'm predicting a mid-Jan finish which is around when the job market should be starting to open up again after the hols. Nice timing indeed.

Another worry is the word on the street says our owners are going to be selling our house. Arrgghh... for all it's faults, I don't want to move. I love living in this neighbourhood (although not so keen on living on a main road with cars blaring doof music all night) and i love the cheapness. I've just been checking out the Tenant's Union website and they have to give us 60 days notice after the house is sold so have at least 3 months before it really becomes an issue.

Then there is my housemate. I'm going to kill. I just need to do some research on the grounds for temporary insanity pleas. His selfishness and lack of personal hygiene is one thing but I'm also starting to think he's not playing with a full deck.

I've got all my toiletries in a drawer in the bathroom. A few weeks ago, I noticed the lid had come off my Fudge hair dye and it had leaked in the drawer. Normally I'm extra careful because it's such messy stuff but figured maybe, just maybe, I'd been in a hurry and not put the lid on properly. So I cleaned up the mess and forgot about it. About a week, later the lid had come off again. Obviously someone has been into it and is being a bastard.

I think he's got away with a lot of shit because we've always had other housemates so you can't pin the blame on anyone but recently there's just been the three of us in the house so it's obvious who is the culprit.

For at least a year, we've had toilet issues - he doesn't flush so I talk to him about it and things are fine for a month or so then it starts again. Today I asked him, yet again, to flush the toilet. I really think you should not have to ask someone over the age of three to flush the toilet ONCE, let alone multiple times. He swears it isn't him. Yes, we have a peeing poltegist. Who know that non-corporeal beings even needed to go?

On top of all the issues I have to constantly nag him about, there are so many things that bug me that I can't really say anything about - you can't tell someone NOT to fry food in the kitchen even though it's so frigging messy, you can't tell someone they shouldn't own three cars and keep two of them for storage and park them in the spots outside the house so other people have to park right down the street, you can't tell people not to talk to you because you are sick of hearing about their bloody prostate issues. Well you can, but murder seems like a far simpler option.

NB: I'm worried now that I've posted this that something's going to happen to him and I'll be the #1 suspect, so I'll put a disclaimer there that when I say I'm going to kill my housemate, I don't mean it at all literally.