When going into college, there is always a sort of anxiety regarding roommates. Dorm life is strange and inconvenient and I still, three years later, have not quite figured out what the point of it is. It did not aid in my assimilation to student life, that’s for sure, because regardless of where I live, Netflix is a thing and so is staying in my room all day.
However, most of us know at least one person from high school and we come up with a master plan to room with her or him in the dorms. Sometimes it turns out… poorly.
My roommate and I got along perfectly and remained roommates for years after leaving our dorm. She would still be my roommate now if she had not moved to Florida to start a wonderful life this past summer.
This turn of events left me in a pickle of sorts, as I am a college student with a typical college student job, meaning, I’m broke.
Having a roommate is good because costs like rent and utilities are split in half. That being said, I knew the moment when my roommate began making plans to move that I would never have another roommate again.
There are few people in this world I do not loathe being around, for no fault of their own. I simply do not like to be around other people. Because of this, the thought of living with another human being is revolting and horrific.
I got lucky with my former roommate. She is still my best friend, even from across the country, but I would not dare roll the dice again because statistically, I could not get so lucky again.
I moved into my own one-bedroom apartment on June 1, unsure of what was to come. I had never lived alone before and did not know what to expect. Now, almost three months later, I can honestly say living alone is the greatest thing of all time in the history of anything ever.
Have you ever gotten out of the shower and stayed wrapped in a towel…for three hours? It is liberating. The entire apartment, though small, is mine. I can sleep in my bedroom, on the living room couch; I could even sleep on the floor in the kitchen if I so desire. I have not yet done that though, so I cannot accurately attest to its merits.
As someone who has struggled with depression for years, I thought the loneliness of living solo would be detrimental to me, but let me tell you, it is so peaceful. Sure, it can be lonely, but that’s when you throw a party or invite a friend over without getting anyone’s permission because you are the king of the castle and you make the rules.
Do you like cats? Get a cat. Get six cats. Order pizza every day because no one will know. Stay out late and sleep in all day. Leave Netflix playing in the background indefinitely until the condescending message of “Are you still watching?” interrupts your fun.
Maybe it’s just me, but I adore being alone, and, though it is stressful to carry the burden of bills and expenses solely on my own shoulders, I would not trade it for the world.
College life has never made much sense to me, so being expected to randomly enjoy myself in a group of strangers has never been something I could get behind. Making friends is great and so is spending time with them. I love the friends and connections I have made while being at UCA.
That being said, I value my personal space and living alone while in college has proved a fabulous and beneficial means of balancing my introversions as well as my rare spurts of uber-socialness. I would recommend it to anyone.
