I love my roommate.
My roommate loves me.
While I naturally enjoy having a roommate who I can rant to at 3 am, binge eat Popsicles and Cheez-Its with, steal coffee and math help from, and watch corny music videos with, there are of course times when I would much rather have a room to myself where I don’t get worried about the prospect of being annoying, or getting annoyed.
So first, sorry, roomie, for getting passively annoyed. And sorry, roomie, for being passively annoying.
However, much of the homeliness I feel here at IMSA comes from my roommate, along with all the other people we live with here. I think having a roommate is one of the most essential parts of living at IMSA, because I don’t think I could take the work load and the stress as lightly as I do if I were living on my own every night. While I know a lot of people may not have the roommate they were expecting, and others seem to have the perfect roommate, I think at one point or another everyone feels like their roommate relationship is leaning on the edge of fatigue and dissatisfaction. The majority of roommate pairs, it seems, have their own system of solving their problems and forgetting each others’ flaws, which is crucial in being mentally happy here. I think it all comes down to recognizing the good times from the bad times, and knowing that your roommate is one of the many powerful people in your life with the ability to either let you sleep in and skip class or threaten you to get up so you don’t fail.
So second, sorry, roomie, for forgetting to wake up. And sorry, roomie, for forgetting to wake you up.
Roommates seem to be such a trivial thing, but also such a big deal here at IMSA. I like to think of having a roommate as a kind of leash—with the ability to tether you down and keep you stable— and the drama that sometimes comes with that roommate as the moody chihuahua tightly bound at its end. I’m not saying that all roommate relationships are dramatic and need stability—especially since my own does not (thanks, roomie)—but there always seems to be the lingering threat of drama if someone makes the wrong move. But again, my roommate is the source of much of the stability I feel at IMSA, as she is one of the few people I am 150% comfortable around and unafraid to look stupid in front of.
So third, sorry, roomie, for looking stupid in front of you. And sorry, roomie, for not telling you how stupid you look.
Roommates are either highly underrated or overrated when it comes down to it. Either no one cares about having a roommate or recognizes the benefits of having one, or having a roommate is over-eulogized. But to me, my roommate is just my roommate—a simple part of IMSA, essential to my well-being.
So lastly, sorry, roomie, for not telling you about how essential you are to my well-being.