Three alarms, two hairdryers, one narrow corridor. I am not asking for a convent. I am asking not to start work already fully irritated today.
Tag: bathroom
Lipstick, voice note, a photo of him at the bar. Safety plan plus a rating. Nights out run on intel. The queue is real chat.
I leave product everywhere. I know that. Still, if you use my mascara I will know. A shared flat is not a shared bloody face.
We made a colour coded masterpiece. Then someone pulled a late and the bathroom went feral. Systems die the first time a night out wins.
Not the scratchy one. The expensive one. Wet patch and stranger smell. Sex is fine here. Laundry diplomacy is how the real house wars start.