A Space of My Own

Living with other people can be awesome and fun! It can also be a huge pain in the ass.

At times I look around and seriously contemplate getting my own studio apartment. Living with kids is a lot like what living in a frat house is like, or at least what I’ve seen of them. Half-empties are everywhere. Stickers gets slapped everywhere. My feet sometimes stick to the floor, and I’ve sat in gum.

The tub is probably cleaner, since the kids use it every day, but other than that, keeping things tidy is not a top priority for my young roommates.

So sometimes I dream of my own private space. I’d even be cool with a room over the garage, or a little alcove in our non-existent basement. If I lived by myself I would:

1) Have different towels for different purposes! The hand towels would not be mistaken for kitchen towels and vice versa.

2) Put the dining room chairs at the table. The comforter would be on the bed. There would be no fort in the hallway.

3) Speaking of the hallway, it wouldn’t be a minefield with pieces and parts lying in wait for bare feet.

4) Have a kickass list of recommendations on my Netflix account, suggestions honed by my obsessions with particular movies and television shows. The “For Sally J” suggestions wouldn’t include Skydancers or The Super Mario Brothers Show.

5) Put everything back where it belongs. I wouldn’t rifle through random things and then put them all in different spots. I wouldn’t rip up mail for fun. I’d live dangerously and leave Sharpies out on the table. I’d have fragile things lower than six feet off the ground.

I know the blanket forts won’t last forever, and that at some point, I’d wish the kids were at home watching Netflix instead of out doing whatever it is they’ll be doing. So I’ll suck it up, and maybe only occasionally check into a hotel for some uncluttered me time.

What’s your list of pet peeves for you roommates, adult, pint-sized, feathered or furry?

12 replies on “A Space of My Own”

The first thing my boyfriend does when he comes home is empty his pockets and puts everything in them on the coffee table. I don’t know how he does it, but he manages to accumulate more items in his pockets in one day than I can fit in my entire backpack — loose change, whole oranges, keys, lighters, guitar picks, wine corks, receipts, lint, pens, mini notebooks, nuts and washers. All these little things create this great big mess that just stays there all night, every night… until the next morning when it’s all put back in his jeans pockets for the day like little magnets to attract even more things. I find this equal parts mystifying and maddening.

I would prefer if my husband did not take the last of the toilet paper in the downstairs bathroom without getting more rolls from upstairs, as the last time he did this, I was having my morning coffee and cigarette routine, which gets the tummy rumbling rather quickly, and hit the head without looking at the TP roll. Which was empty. Lets just say it was a shitty situation all the way around and leave it at that.

I haven’t lived with another human in 12+ years. I’m pretty sure I’ll never be able to cohabit again. If I ever have another serious romantic relationship, we’ll just have to live near each other. There are tumbleweeds blowing across the horizon of my lovelife, so that’s a non-issue, and I’m fine with that.

The two cats, however… They take up most of the bed at night and I arrange myself to fit where they are laying. In their eyes, my sole purpose is to serve them–the best food, lots of snuggles and catbox cleaning on demand. As I type this, I have one cat laying between me and the laptop, with his head in the crook of my right elbow. He pays me back in purrs. :)

I’m not sure if I will ever have kids, simply because I’m an extreme introvert, and I’m not sure how I’d feel w/ someone constantly invading my quiet time.  I’m a pretty easy going roommate, so long as you don’t bug me in my room unless it’s absolutely necessary or talk incessantly about nothing we’ll totally get along!

I’m usually a pretty chill roommate. There’s a lot I don’t really care about. But the things that I DO care about are probably potential deal-breakers on rooming. For instance, I don’t necessarily need my own room, but I DO need a space that is not only a space of my own (such as, a desk), but it also needs to be relatively quiet.

Some days this is more necessarily than others, and on occasion it doesn’t really matter…but if I don’t have my own personal withdrawal space, I go crazy real fast.

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