I hate living in this flat. My stupid Italian flatmate's mum is staying and sticking her nose into the cleaning.
I went home in December for basically two months. Got back a week into February, then went away for a weekend. My Spanish flatmate was gone for about ten days since I've been back. And yet the Italian flatmate's mum is bitching that we haven't sorted out the cleaning rota. How can we, when we haven't all been here?! She also pointed out someone had been dumping sanitary towels into (what until now I didn't even realise was) a bin, and not emptying them. And the whole time through this little lecture, the other two flatmate's stood there with their arms crossed and looked at me like I was the culprit. Despite the Italian being a skank who put used condoms in the food recycling bin when her boyfriend was here. Also apparently it's my fault that the lighter for the hob doesn't work. Despite the fact that I rarely if ever even use more than the fridge in the kitchen.
Argh, ****ing hate it. Because I'm not an arrogant bitch like the Spanish girl, or a mummy's baby like the Italian, I get blamed for everything. Living as a three is ****, when the other two have ganged up.