So this morning I went into the lounge to get my four-litre bottle of milk, as usual, when what did I see? My four-litre bottle of milk on the counter — less of it — and no longer cool. Quite possibly it’d been sitting there overnight.
This makes me angry. Really angry. I don’t usually get angry, but this time I am.
Firstly, someone takes my milk without my permission. My floor is usually very good about not taking other people’s food and I had been telling other people who don’t live here this proudly for a long time now. Not so henceforth. While I have fed my friends with my milk on occasion, I am not at all willing to have people take it whenever they please. I paid for that, okay? I don’t earn my own money; my parents support me and they work damn hard. Go get your own milk — Hubbards is not that far away.
Secondly, I get my four-litre bottles of milk from Safeway. I am a little person. I lug this home. It takes me a lot of time and energy. I’m not doing it for anyone else.
Thirdly, you don’t take someone else’s milk and leave it out to possibly go bad. I paid for that. Are we getting the point? There’s a good litre of it left, and if it’s all bad, I’ll be in an even bigger rage than I already am. Today is not a day I want to be going down to Sasamat. It’s just completely inconsiderate and ridiculously bad manners.
To reiterate: my milk = my money = my parents’ money = my parents’ hard work and time.
This is why I would make a pathetically bad communist.
