The rest of my life in stories can be found here.
After living on my own for a year, I decided it was likely best to find a room mate. This is mostly due to the fact that I had dropped out of university and was no longer being supported by my parents.
I know, parenting FAIL, but they were poor so I forgive them.
I moved into a basement suite with a good friend from summer church camp. Since I had the most furniture, I took the big room. She took the small room. She said she didn't mind.
We had great conversations in the middle of the night perched on the kitchen counters while enjoying Slurpees. We went for long walks without our bras and shared a kitten for about a week. We had a great time.
However, there were some other bad things about living with me. I didn't like to clean unless I was mad, so she did the majority of the cleaning. I was a terrible cook, so I would eat her left-overs she had saved to take to school the next day. I left my books on the counter and her very serious boyfriend read one of the sex scenes out loud before dying of embarrassment.
Seriously, to this day, I have no idea how she is still talking to me.