Since moving in with my brother and his new family in August, I’ve been concerned about my precious (expensive) makeup being
abused by the fourteen-year-old brat I share my room with. Finally I decided to do a little experiment. Yesterday, before leaving the house, I left a little note in my makeup drawer, telling her in no uncertain terms to leave my stuff alone, and took a picture. I don’t think she thought I’d do that. Below is that picture.
When I got home yesterday afternoon I had to first put away the iron and ironing board blocking the way to my bed, turn a blind eye to the scattering of sanitary pads on the floor, and then opened my top drawer. This is what I found:
Can you see the difference? I was so angry (and still, everytime I think about it I start shaking all over) I thought I was going to have a stroke. The worst part of it all is that despite having this evidence, I can’t confront her. So I repeated the experiment again, and if she’s been in my stuff again (I didn’t say anything yesterday to let on I know she’s been in my stuff, and the note I left this morning was in a different font).
I’m desperate to now find alternative residence until our place is finished (hopefully end of November) for the sake of my stuff not being used by a selfish little bitch. I’m tired of bottling up all the anger and frustration, and it’s no wonder I constantly feel tired and sick.
I just wanted to get all this out of my system, and I suppose verification that I’m not insane and that she is, in fact, messing around in my stuff.