Home » Roommates
Moving Out when You Can’t Stand your Roommate
As Labor Day creeps up on us, I’m reminded of a post I wrote just after Memorial Day — about how my roommate wanted her unemployed, recovering alcoholic friend to move in.
I was a bit freaked by her baggage, but mostly I had the initial gut reaction that I didn’t like her. Something about her seemed. . . off. I didn’t want to hurt my current roommates feelings or cause unnecessary drama, so even with misgivings, I let her friend Moe move in.
Well, now I’m moving out.
Things haven’t been awesome since she arrived. For example, I would be working in the living room and she’d come in to announce that she’d be using the living room in 20 minutes. And then, she began writing lengthy emails about various topics, like how someone used HER TOOTHPASTE (did we all want to pitch in and buy COMMUNAL toothpaste? She was NOT SUPPORTING US!!). Yep, capital letters, exclamation marks and all.
The kicker though, was when she started labeling her toothpaste, shampoo, razor, conditioner, and toothbrush(eww as if!) in black permanent marker. And then all her Tupperware (Moe’s Lunch Tupperware!). It got to the point where, I started to feel like I was in a bit of a war zone.
I didn’t roll over and play dead, it’s true, but I didn’t initiate any of this either. Proof? My other roommate and I have coexisted peacefully for nearly a year and a half. All I did, really, was expect my new roommate to have a better understanding of sharing than a 5 year-old; I expected her to know when it was necessary to compromise. There are always going to be issues that bug you about your roommate. But what bugged me about her prior to these, more outreagous things, aren’t even worth mentioning, even now. Why? Because ignoring her indescretions led to household harmony. BTW, I wasn’t egregiously overusing her toiletries; I used her toothpaste by accident once.
What’s the moral of the story? Ah, yes. That. Well, it’s that I wish I had trusted my instincts and had said “NO” to my other roommate when she wanted to bring Moe into our household; my stomach knew then what my brain knows now.
So. . . my “new” roommate turned out to be a semi-crazy lady with severe boundary issues. And I just lost a pretty spot-on apartment.
And so commences. . . the next Apartment search. Le sigh.