assumed stereotype or appalling situation?

in may of 2007, i turned a new leaf... after living alone for a short -- albeit sweet -- period of about two months, i then acquired a roommate... but not just any roommate... a lover and fellow apartment dweller... sure, i'd seen the shape he kept his reasonably-sized toronto abode... sure, it scared me that perhaps his penchant for messiness would not be left at the doorstep... but alas, there comes a time when living together makes so much more sense than living apart with frequent sleepovers...

it didn't take long before socks were thrown about, the bathroom crud seemed to magically build and random objects miraculously made their way into just about every common space... and even though you couldn't see it from the doorway, a steady pile of clothing was building on his side of the bed...

i will admit that i can be a contributing factor... there are days/nights when having my head hit the pillow is much more important than worrying whether all the dishes have been done... but whether it be something that's come with age, or with the realization that this is my space that i pay for, suddenly cleanliness has become godliness...

precursor: i'm not a neat freak... but following hours of scrubbing the bathroom, i was in love with the fact that a clean sheen twinkled off of all the surfaces... even though it ruined my week old manicure, i stood with my fists on my hips and nodded my head with a sense of accomplishment...

then, much to my dismay, i returned home that night to find speckles and streaks of a deep brown scored along the edges of the once white sink... spots dotted the counter top to boot... at first he cowered and avoided my disbelief and disappointment and then the truth came out that a neglected hair dye incident had lead to the destruction of my so fresh and so clean bathroom...

i bitched, i moaned... and then i woke up to a pile of laundry that had so kindly been left for me to fold and put away... so, as any self-respecting woman would do, i wrote to a treasured friend to gather her two cents... and while her thoughtful words were much appreciated, i couldn't help but wonder about the predicament we're often in...

she mentioned things like "welcome to married life", "choose your battles" and "men are pigs"... i envied her sense of humour and relaxed stance, but does it really have to be this way? is messiness really alright due to gender default? and is simply asking to live in an orderly fashion such a tall order?

i don't love cleaning... my floor was barely visible in my teenage years and often neglected into my university days too... but there comes a point where i feel it necessary to just grow up and understand that you're not a kid anymore and that includes not choosing to live like a kid... i'm not saying all surfaces must be bare and a living space should mirror those classy minimalist retail stores where the square footage strongly outweighs the content... i'm just saying that i'm not sure i can make excuses anymore... yeah, yeah... don't sweat the small stuff... i agree... but sometimes when blatant ignorance to detail in a united lifestyle continues day after day, the stuff stops seeming so small...