living with other humans

As I write this, I also have an incomplete novel manuscript, a half-finished essay and my edited resume minimized in separate Word tabs… but that’s exactly why I have to write this.

Someday in the not-too-far-away future, I’ll be living elsewhere and so will my wonderful roommates.

College is a stressful time, but it feels like it’s nearly over for me. In my case, the cliché is too real: I honestly feel as if my first day of college was just a couple months ago. I can remember the excitement, the nervousness, the mature college men… the harder classes…

…the roommates…

Let’s be honest here: as a young girl facing big changes and a rapidly growing amount of social anxiety, moving in with complete strangers was intimidating to say the least. In fact, the first time I entered the tiny but crowded dorm room filled with strangers, I walked right back out. Nope. Too many people I didn’t know. I barely even recognized my new roommates at first, as I had only ever seen them in facebook pictures and there were so many other people in the room.

But roommates can become awesome friends. By the end of that first year, the three of us had become pretty close. There were prank wars and late-night laughter sessions, spontaneous trips to Target (an hour away, sadly) and exciting concerts. We each had other friends and went to different rooms or different schools, but we still make time to hang out and I wouldn’t trade them for any other first-year roommates.

I now live in an apartment with six girls, and share a room with two of them. Us three get along pretty well—we don’t fight much, except about things like what scents are considered “Christmas smells” and which are acceptable year-round. I sleep in a top bunk, which is something I haven’t done since I was about 11. It’s cool though, because I’m short enough that my head doesn’t hit the ceiling even when I’m sitting up late writing a paper and am too lazy to go out to the living room.

One of my roommates (the one with whom I argued about Christmas smells) is a really fun but incredibly smart girl. Our “arguments” usually consist of ridiculous things, which is fine with me. She’s the mom of our room without a doubt, which is probably good. When it’s getting late and I’m still watching Netflix, she’ll walk into the room and announce that our bedroom lights are going off in two minutes so it’s time to go to bed. Shoutout to her for helping me sleep 7-8 hours every night.

The other girl was my roommate last year, and we’re really close. We joke sometimes that we have no other friends but each other, which is only partially true. We share the same dumb sense of humor and are always doing stupid things like buying The Sims for our laptops and trying to kill everyone in the town (the things we’ll do to ignore upcoming deadlines). She always texts me out of nowhere with stories so ridiculous they have to be true, and I do the same right back at her. Neither of us are very exciting, but we certainly aren’t boring.

It’ll be weird drifting apart from my past and current roommates—and someday from my future ones—but that’s just how time works, I guess. For now, I’ll just try to enjoy all the great experiences I get to have with my live-in friends in this weirdly wonderful community of little adults. It’s a great place and a wonderful life.

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