The Sink

From a 2010 resurrected draft, so most references are to the past, even though the post date says otherwise.

I moved out of the school dorms in May. The building I now stay in is somewhat similar to the dorms, except you have your own room and bathroom, but have to share the common kitchen.

I moved out precisely because I was very limited in what I could make in the dorms — you can only go so far with a rice cooker or a microwave. Hot plates and the like are forbidden in the new place but electric skillets are not, and with an adjustable temperature control, the only thing I can’t do is bake, which I can’t do anyway (lessons are in order, eh, Vickii?).

The problem area showed up barely a week after I moved in. If the title of my post wasn’t a big enough hint, it’s the sink.

It’s nearly always filled with some very murky water from when someone used it and forgot — I’m actually beginning to believe it’s deliberate — to drain the water. Meat, fish scales, vegetable bits, plastic wrap, and God knows what other kinds of effluvia go into the mix.

I know because every time I have to use the sink  to do my dishes or wash my stuff before cooking, I’ve had to reach in gloveless (why do I keep forgetting to get a pair) and scoop out all the stuff, some of which might have been sitting in there for days. I hope you’re not eating, just as much as I hope the contents have not included snot, because that’s the color of the water.

The kitchen is otherwise clean, and it’s not really a bad place to live, but this just happens to be my pet peeve, as I suspect it would for anyone else.

Now if anyone responsible for clogging the sink had to drink two glassfuls of whatever liquid (s)he left behind, I get the feeling there wouldn’t be quite as many instances of this odious practice.

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