1. I wouldn't have to remove his hair from the shower drain. His short hairs would just slip through the drain out of sight, rather than end up at the bottom of the tub like a blonde nest that I have to pick up because somehow that has been designated as my job.
2. I wouldn't come home to my apartment smelling like foreign cuisine. For one, it's unlikely he's cooked anything. But even if he had, it would probably just smell like normal chicken or beef. I don't need the pungent smell of some funky fish or spicy sauce permeating throughout the place.
3. There wouldn't be smears of mascara in my bathroom sink. How black make-up in a white sink goes unnoticed is beyond me.
4. The toilet paper would last a lot longer, and I wouldn't be left with just two squares. AND the toilet paper would be replaced facing the right way.
6. The dishes would be loaded into the dishwasher correctly. Probably because I put them there, but at least they came directly from the sink, rather than me rearranging them when they're already in the machine stacked on top of each other like some dish orgy.
7. I wouldn't have to rewash "clean" dishes in the drying rack (hint: if there's still grease or bits of food still on there, it's NOT clean). Again, probably because I would have washed the dishes in the first place, although I think he does a good job at this.
8. My clothes drying rack would always be available when I need it, since he dries all of his clothes in the machine or gets them dry cleaned. I wouldn't have to realize that, just when I've finished a load of delicate panties, I have no where to hang them up because the roomie is borrowing my drying rack. Again.
First World problems, I know. And temporary problems, because I will at some point A. marry and live with a man or B. be able to afford a place by myself. It just seems like A or B can't come fast enough... #NeatFreak #OCD (are hashtags allowed in blog posts?)