My mind is blown on a continuous basis. Mostly regarding the gumption of certain
people in the event of items that are not their own.
This is not how I wanted to make my comeback post, but when
you get the urge to write, you should go for it. A lot of cool and positive things have
happened since the end of Winter semester which I have had wanted to share, and
at some point I still plan to do so. But
I am beginning to notice that when I am upset or frustrated, or my brain is
imploding, that is when I just want to get the story down and share. I guess there is no way to deny that I am a ranter, not exactly the type of blogger
I wish to be. (Perhaps I can candy-coat
it into spirited story-teller?)
Anyway, to cut to the juicy-ness, this morning I decided to enjoy
a nice, steaming coffee in a travel mug to keep it warm as long as possible
while I read The Girl with the Dragon
Tattoo. (I find my coffee cools too
quickly in a mug and I end up only drinking about half of the coffee.) I only own two travel mugs; one cute pink mug
from Second Cup gifted to me by a dear friend for Christmas of 2010, and a
fabulous purple Contigo mug Tim bought me for this Christmas past. Since the Contigo mug is spill-proof, I
usually take that one when I am on the go, and I use my pink one while studying
at home. Today I decided to use my pink
one since I was only going to sink into the couch with a good book. As I brewed the coffee and opened the cupboard
to grab my pink mug, I noticed it was not where I expected to find it. I checked a few other cupboards around the
kitchen and then began to feel a little panic rise within. I thought, where could I have possibly left my mug? I usually only use it around the house, and
it’s not in my room. (Please note, my roommate A. had just moved out this
past weekend, in turn I moved into her old bedroom so I knew for a fact that my
mug was not in my bedroom.)
Since A. had been packing things over a period of time, she
mentioned being unsure of whether she owned certain things and to let her know
if she took anything that was not hers.
I highly doubted she would think my cute pink travel mug was hers, but I
contacted her anyway to see if she had seen it while in the process of
packing.
Her response:
Yes! I have it!!!
I’ll bring it to you!!!
Oh how nice, she will bring it to me. Wait a second...
First of all, did she pack my mug thinking it was hers but
was able to identify the exact one that was missing all the while knowing that
it probably wasn’t hers? Or did she
borrow it and never return it and MOVE OUT and not have any intention of
returning it until I ever-so-nicely asked if she had seen it?
What were her intentions?
I’m not really one to freak-out at a person, I most often freak-out about a person. And when it
is A. that is the subject of the freak-out, my awesome roommate, J., takes it
all in and we have a bonding moment. So
when I texted J. sharing A.’s response to my inquiry about my cute pink travel
mug, her response was:
“She used it in the
house one day ... and asked if I thought you would mind. I told her I thought it was a gift...”
(Kudos to J., she knows how I feel about gifts.)
“... So I didn’t think
she took it out of the house.”
With this new information, I deduce that A. knew I probably
wouldn’t enjoy the fact that she was using my cute pink travel mug in the first
place, so by venturing off the premises with my property would probably not be
a good thing to do, especially without my consent.
My mind is still in after-shock as to why she would do
this? It’s not about a travel mug,
really, it’s the principal of the thing and also my inability to understand
someone else’s actions, namely A.’s actions.
(Which I must say has been quite a mystery to myself a J. Read more here.) Why would she go as far to ask J. if she
thought I’d mind, get an answer leaning toward “yes” and then proceed to go
about the unfavorable action? And you
know, this is the 21st century, she could have texted me if I was
not present. She has texted me about
other things that are far less meaningful.
I just don’t understand.
She could have bought her own travel mug. They sell them at the dollar store now so it wouldn't break the bank if she were to have gotten her own.
Anyway, I bet I seem incredibly possessive now. I kind of am, but I'm trying to be a little more lenient... but it is events like these that make me think, why bother?
UPDATE:
So I finally got my mug back! But the return is a story in itself.
On my way home from T.'s one evening, I received a text message from A.
A: Hey! I put your cup in the mail box! I'm sorry I could[n't] talk or anything. Super busy day!
At first I was pleased to be informed that my mug made it safely home, then I was confused as to why she would place it in the mailbox as opposed to knocking on the door to make sure I got my mug. Then I realized that she didn't even bother to see if anyone was home to even give her the opportunity to place it safely inside. That's odd. But then again, I think I've already established that A.'s actions aren't always what is perceived as "normal".
When I got home and retrieved my mug from the mailbox, I instantly noticed a bit of dried, sticky coffee on the mouth piece. Gross. I popped the top off only to be disgusted by the sour odor that came from inside of my special coffee mug. Too steamed to text back right away, I put my precious mug in the sink to soak, hoping to rid it of it's grody-ness.
I finally responded to A. in a semi-pleasant manner,
I'd say you had a busy day, looks like you didn't have time to clean my mug.
I couldn't find anything better to say. I had to let her know this was unacceptable, but I didn't want to just flip out at her -- that wouldn't accomplish much. She quickly came back,
What! I cleaned it this morning! And then J. at work cleaned it thinking it was P.'s mug! Cause he has the same one
My response,
You sure you both didn't clean P.'s? There is sticky coffee congealed on the mouthpiece and it smells really sour.
A.'s response,
Damn. Maybe I did.
:S
How could I possibly respond to this?
...
LOL
And that's that, folks. I haven't talked to A. since, but then again, we have nothing to talk about. And now I'm bitter about sharing my things.
