Things are not great in the land of Nell. Oh, I'm fine; feeling a little overwhelmed, I suppose, but my sister and I are having domestic problems. She decided that I should be the one to empty the dishwasher. I figured that I was busy, and besides, most of the dishes are hers, so she could empty it. So I left for the weekend, and when I got back, the dishwasher was still full. Oooh. I decided that I could be just as stubborn as my sister and refused to acknowledge the dishwasher.
When she got home, she discovered me eating her potato chips and when she saw that the dishwasher was still full, decided to inform me that I could buy her a whole new bag. Now, I'd just had a teensy fight with my boy, so I told her not to mess with me. "I know that you're the Queen Supreme Bitch, but I think I can hold my own." She responded with, "I'm Supreme Bitch? Oh, no, I think that's you." I told her that there was no use denying it, because it was a well documented fact. Then she launched into the dishwasher tirade, so I went over and pulled out the five dishes in there that I used, and told her I had put mine away. Then she told me I couldn't use her printer.
When we got into bed, she turned on the light to do some late night reading. When I asked her to do that in the other room, she refused. So I turned on the radio. I would prefer to sleep with music on, I just don't do it out of courtesy to others. She turned it off and informed me that the stereo was hers and that I couldn't use it. So I shot back with, "Well, then you can't use anything that's mine." (I know, juvenile, but sometimes necessary.) She said she'd just bring up all her stuff from Phoenix, I told her good luck, and that in the mean time she can't use any of my things.
The telephones are mine. The TV is mine. The couch is mine. The coffee table is mine. The microwave is mine. All the bookcases are mine. I bought the toilet paper, paper towels, and Kleenex.