The kitchen of my apartment is at it’s worst on Sunday. On Friday nights we generally don’t clean because we’re getting ready to party, which means we start the weekend with one day’s worth of mess. Then, dozens of people descend on our apartment with all manner of refreshments and by 2:00AM Saturday the sink is full of plastic solo cups and reeks of stale beer.

On Saturday, one or more of us will make a half-hearted effort at clean up, but we usually get sidetracked by the Xbox. Sometimes the hard work of starting the clean up process makes us hungry–we eat frozen burritos on paper plates and add them to the mess.

So the same thing happens on Saturday night, except now the kitchen is so full that the mess spills into the living room. Right now there are rotting Ramen noodles in our sink (note: contrary to popular belief, we do NOT have a disposal), four wounded soldiers on the coffee table, and some ungodly stickiness on the kitchen counter.

If it sounds like I’m bitching, it’s not really my intent. If I really wanted it clean I’d go clean it myself. But it’s not worth it to me to do it myself yet, so I’m not sure why I should expect my roomies to do it.  Living with three roommates creates a lot of game-theory type scenarios, though.