Living.

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For a girl who spent the last four months living with people she didn’t know. Having a random guy be in the kitchen cooking 3 meters away from her room, this little princess was out of her comfort zone.

My last place was a complete mess.

Why?

Because no body gave a rat’s ass about the pig sty we were living in. None of us knew each other, and one girl had the audacity┬áto let her boyfriend stay over every other week. I deliberately picked a place with all girls so that I didn’t have to worry about walking out of the shower to meet in the hall with a guy. Thank you very much.

But finally that is over and I am living with my friends now. And all I can say is that I am so glad to be living with friends. I honestly don’t know how people can live with others that they don’t know. Living alone is a different story but just living with random people I don’t think I can ever do that again; There was a ginger in it’s packaging on the counter top for 4+ weeks sprouting another stem. That’s how many shits were given at my place. And the funny thing is when friends asked to sleep over I told them not to because my place was filthy. No one believed how bad it could be until they took a step inside and saw their white socks turn black.

Alas living with friends isn’t all peaches and cream either. There’s the constant food mix ups, things getting tossed or used that you didn’t know about. Talking for long hours without getting work done, impromptu game/food/drinking/talking night (this sucks when its more than 2 days in a row). Cooking at the same time, and cleaning. Oh and sex too! I haven’t had to bear through it yet, but I know that when the day comes, it’s going to be hell.

But so far for now I am loving coming home to friends, and sharing my time with them. It truly is a second home.

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