Number six. They fake injuries or illnesses for attention, or to get out of accountability, and the timing always seems to line up with exactly when something is expected of them.
Number seven. They micromanage things they don’t even care about, just to assert control over you, correcting details that were never actually a problem in the first place.
Number eight. They compare themselves to celebrities, as if they’re on the same level, and get genuinely defensive if you don’t agree with the comparison.
Number nine. They make backhanded jokes disguised as humor, so they’re cutting you down while laughing at you, and calling you sensitive if it actually bothers you.
Number ten. They act like a hero for doing the bare minimum, and expect applause for things a normal person wouldn’t even mention out loud.
Number eleven. They love chaos. They leave cabinets open, they start unnecessary drama, they disrupt your peace, seemingly just to keep things unsettled and everyone slightly on edge, because calm feels dangerous to them.
Number twelve. They blame you for things they caused, turning their guilt into your problem to solve, and your job to fix, without ever quite saying it outright.
Number thirteen. They play the victim in every argument, no matter how much damage they’ve done, until somehow you’re the one comforting them.
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