A Letter

Dear housemate,

I understand that you have previously led a sheltered life in which you apparently were under no requirement to take care of yourself in any way. I understand that this is a new country and perhaps you are still disoriented. I understand that some things which seem obvious to the rest of us may be utterly incomprehensible to you. Nevertheless, when I examine the household recycling bin, which I had taken the precaution to label on its lid in a large font exactly what is permitted to be entered into it and what is not, and when I find within this same bin the following items:

• Used tissue
• Teabags
• Instant noodle wrappers
• Cheese wrappers
• Eggshells
• Egg yolk
• Parcel packaging indicating your full name and address
• Bank letters indicating your full name, address and account number

When I find these same items within a bin reserved for recycling, I am forced to conclude that you are severely lacking in common sense, and are perhaps illiterate as well. I would argue that you are also deficient in a sense of responsibility, a postulate reinforced by the mess left on the toilet floor as a result of your faulty aim, and which you apparently do not feel the necessity to clean up. I would propose to hold a grudge against you for such behaviour, or plan some form of humiliating revenge, except that it is clear to me that your carelessness will bring you much grief at some point in the future when you should reside amongst less tolerant and honest persons. Therefore I will continue to delve into the recycling bin, tear up your sensitive mail and scrub the floor with Dettol, knowing that there is no greater punishment than what your own stupidity will eventually inflict upon you.

I remain, with regards,
Your housemate.