Roommate relationships can be tough. These are the people who see me without makeup, in pajamas and right out of the shower. They have access to everything in my room when I’m away. They know what I had for dinner and whether I worked out that day. They know what time I leave and what time get home – or if I come home.
And I have the same access to them. I had a conversation with Brian while he wore only a towel. I spotted Dave, the Ryan Gosling look-alike, getting a midnight snack in only his undies. I hear shower singing and phone conversations. I get excited to hear about Brian’s auditions. (He knows Jack McBrayer!) I ask Dave if there was making out when he gets home from a date. I just witnessed an impromptu dance lesson in the kitchen.
I’ve lived with two guys before – but this time I’m not sleeping with half of them. But we get along fine. I think we spend enough time together, and no one cares if we retreat to our rooms with the doors shut.
I took a huge leap of faith living with these guys. I spent more time vetting the person who bought my car than I did thinking about who I’d share a kitchen with. I was nervous about living with roommates – but not so much who they were, but how it might cramp my style.
I spent the last year living by myself. At first I hated it. I thought it was depressing to be home by myself. Then I embraced it. I could listen to Florence + the Machine over & over or do yoga in the living room. I could put on my pajamas at 6:30 p.m. if I wanted to. I didn’t have to worry about who didn’t take out the trash, buy toilet paper or clean the shower. It was always me.
But I haven’t had problems like that with Dave & Brian. They aren’t the cleanest of guys, but they pick up after themselves. Our shower head broke Thursday night. Brian said he’d buy a new one Friday. Dave said, “I can fix that!” Dave tried. Brian bought a new one Saturday. I stayed out of it, but cleaned the kitchen.
Sometimes we sit around watching “30 Rock” or talking about relationships. It’s not all that different from when I lived with my girl friends in college. These are great guys. They don’t even care when I run out the door without washing my oatmeal bowl or I use their yellow mustard on my turkey sandwich.
** Sorry to disappoint, we’re not close enough for me to post their pictures on my blog.