Let’s rewind to last April.
Finals are amongst us.
I’m interviewing for jobs in Wilmington for the summer.
My stress level is gradually climbing up an unhealthy slope.
And then, in the midst of the end of semester chaos, my roommate did the unthinkable.
She, wait for it, unexpectedly terminated our lease.
In two weeks, I would become the adjective I often use to describe my outfit choices: Homeless.
Now, dear reader, I hope your jaw has dropped to the ground just as mine did when I was given the news. Within two weeks, I needed to be out of my apartment and settled into a new one. Totally logical.
I did as anyone would do in this situation — I panicked. And I mean, full on temper tantrum, tears of anger streaming down my face, straight up panicked. And rightfully so. People looking to sublease for the summer had filled their spots; the lease for my townhouse wouldn’t be available until August; I had just landed a well paying nannying job for the summer. Not to mention, I had zero intentions of going back home for the summer. So, the question remained: what the hell was I going to do?
My boyfriend and I were inching towards the one month mark when my roommate dropped the ball. I was still struggling to remember Chase’s middle name when he presented the idea that I would have never expected, nor taken seriously. My incredible, sweet, kind boyfriend, whose damn middle name I could not remember to save my life, proposed living with him and his roommate for the summer.
Let’s think this through: I am homeless. My choices are limited. My mom is going to kill me. There is no way we can make this work. What if we break up? Then I’ll really be homeless. Oh my god, my mom is going to kill me.
Two weeks later, I moved in. And alas, my journey towards becoming Jess in New Girl commenced. Though it bared some similarities, it wasn’t exactly how Zooey Deschanel portrayed it would be.
Within the first few days, I was reminded of some crucial things. Boys are gross. Boys smell after they workout. Boys do not clean. Boys sometimes smell even if they don’t workout. Boys would rather wait until all of the dishes are dirty before putting them into the dishwasher and/or washing them, dare I say it, by hand.
However, I quickly overcame my losing battle of teaching my boyfriend that cleaning was an essential to living. Mainly because I had no shot at winning, but also because this apartment was now filled with something my last one lacked entirely: Love.
Being that Chase had a roommate for part of summer, I use this word as both platonic and romantic. The apartment was filled each day with laughter, lots of genuine conversation, one or two fights a week (remember, we were still learning how to be a couple) and ridiculous attempts at trying to be adults i.e. learning to cook chicken without setting the smoke detectors off and realizing that actual fights can take place over what temperature to keep the apartment on — another battle I lost.
Looking back on my summer experience, I’m still awestruck that it happened; more importantly, that it was a successful living situation. Like in New Girl, the apartment was filled with constant laughter, weekly mental crises carried out by yours truly, and a plethora of fun yet seemingly ridiculous situations, like turning a bedroom into a fort for a weekend. Unlike New Girl, the infamous breakup that all of our friends secretly predicted to happen, did indeed, NOT occur.
I learned a lot this summer. And while I don’t recommend terminating your roommate’s lease, I can speak truthfully when I say that any situation — no matter how big or small — will work out in the end. And, hopefully, it’ll change your life for the better!
Photo courtesy of GIF.