It was muggy here last night so I didn't sleep well, and the gentle snoring of the paramour didn't help much either. I pinched him, poked him, and eventually held his nose closed until he turned over-and then I discovered he can snore on his side.
Because I was awake of course I needed to go to the bathroom. So-muttering darkly about snoring folk - I trundled off to the bathroom and promptly fell down the toilet.
I managed to wiggle my way free. I stomped back into the bedroom and snapped the light on. 'Put the bloody seat down!'
'What what?' He replied blearily sitting up. 'What's going on?'
'The toilet seat paramour, you-just put it down. Or use the other bathroom, why don't you?'
'Aw forget it.'
No point shouting at a man in the middle of the night. And within minutes the room was filled with the not at all infuriating sound of deep rummbly snores.
GAH. I made my way to the sitting room and sat at my desk for a while, thinking sulking, thulking.
I blame boarding school (for so many things). I was soured by boarding school, the horror of sharing a bathroom with fifty other girls-if you were lucky to be on that floor- has caused my very real dslike of sharing a bathroom. Years of picking clumps of hair out of the drain, hoping to God pee-pee paula hit the spot, wondering why that girl from Carlow kept stealing the toilet paper and discovering there wasn't even the faintest dribble of hot water left to rinse the stinging shampoo from my hair, has completely scuppered my views on shared bathrooms. Peraps my many years 'abroad' also added to my toilet whimsy. Toilets, I mean they're personal aren't they? Either way, I cannot stand sharing a bathroom with another person, even the paramour. I have two bathrooms here, mine, and the guest. Mine is attached to my room. The other is across the hall. Both have a shower, a toilet and bidet, although mine also has a bath. Now, before anyone accuses me of being a Polly Pissy Pants, I should point out that I'm not all weird about sharing, but I don't really see the point if you don't have to.
It all makes perfect sense.
Eg. I take a while to get ready to go out, there are primpings, some preenings, hair removal, tweezings, buffing, moisturing, drying, hair stuff, make up stuff, more hair stuff...it takes a while.
He, on the other hand, has a shower, a shave, sprays deodorant, slaps on aftershave and voila, he's hot to trot. Naturally it makes sense that he might like the use of the other bathroom to, you know, do his thing.
He doesn't hang the damp towels on the towel rails, he flings them over the shower rail. I don't know why he does this. I don't know why it annoys me.
But it does.
So, shared bathrooms, I'm against it. Now I just have to convince the paramour that he wants to use the other bathroom and that it's got nothing to do with me at all.
Oh and Puddy's on the operating table right about now. All her blood work came back normal. She's in good shape, so hopefully all will go well and I'll get her back this afternoon. I wonder will they put one of those funnel things on her head. I hope so, that will scare the pants of the bigger of the cats.