Living w/ Treevis

Living with Trevor is mostly me filling up the Brita while he tries to talk to me from the closet while old episodes of Real Housewives play in the background, and the whole time I’m saying, “ARE YOU TALKING TO ME?”

I’ve also realized personal space is a joke. He’s more likely to interrupt me doing anything (usually me trying to pee or take a shower) if I close the door. I’m going to start leaving the door open and keeping data on whether or not this fends him off…

And every time he folds my clean laundry, he puts a thong on his head and says, “Whoa, look at this cool hat.”