I never thought I would say this, but I wish I had a roommate.
We’ve all had them, we’ve all hated them, and we all wish they’d crawl back into the disgusting vegan pod they spewed out of. You know what I’m talking about – roommates. They’re either too messy or too clean, their dog poops in your shoes, they play their dub-step too loud, they smell like BV vagina yet they don’t have a vagina, they eat your food, or they just exist and it’s enough to drive you mad. From dorm bunk mates to my-wife-just-left-me-for-my-best-friend-and-they-live-in-my-god-damn-house craigslist roommate, there is no escaping them. But this is what your mid twenties are for; roommates and binge drinking. Sometimes both.
However, come age 23 I was done. I grew tired of living in the same punk house with 9 other roommates all in the name of creating art and living in a cool part of town. So I packed up my things in the midst of a relationship break up and moved…to my mother’s house. If I’m going to have a roommate, they better pay my share of the rent and feed me.
Then when I felt I was about to pull my face off if I heard “Jenny, do you need to eat bread?” one more time, the chance to get my own apartment came up. A lovely, cute, 1 bed in East Boston. Backyard, awesome landlord, and free parking. It’s still over the river and none of your friends will visit you, but hey it’s YOURS! And so it became mine. And so started my downward spiral of lonliness.
I wake up in the morning, around 6am, to a cat kneading my tit. It’s comforting for about two seconds and then I throw him across the room. Then I stare at the ceiling for two hours. Usually with a roommate you would hear them barking and bumbling about the house and would have to get up and tell them to shut up. But it’s dead silent.
Then I cook a meal for one. That’s a bummer. Especially because my meal for one is about the size for two.
Then if I’m not going to work, it’s time to figure out what I will do with my day. Shall I dust my shelving unit? Read a book I’ve already read? Read a book I have only for intellectual display? Masturbate? Yes, that seems to be the easiest thing to do. I’ve done it, a lot. Everywhere in my house. I wouldn’t sit there if I were you. Seriously, don’t sit there.
But with a roommate I am forced to engage in conversation while their ex boyfriend slips out the back door or leave the house because I can’t stand them.
Roommates are great for motivating one to find a way out. If you are trying to find a way out constantly, then you are always busy! If you are always busy, then you’re productive! If you are productive, then it seems you aren’t wasting you life trying to be a stand up comic! If you aren’t wasting you life, your parents will love you! And thus my secret goal of finding my parents love is accomplished. All because I can’t stand my roommate.
So if I had a roommate, preferably one I can only stand for about a day or two before I am forced to leave, I will live a happier and more productive life. I’ll be out in the world and I may stumble upon a great new job, a new friend, or my true love. I may even find the cure for cancer. Who knows! I’ll at least find a cure for obesity with all the biking away from my home I’d be doing. We all know skinny=attractive=success=parent’s love!!
Roommates, the best diet of all.
