Fuck You Rommate Patty
Natalie's Livejournal inspired me... to write something on the same exact topic with the same exact sentiment. Sorry, livejournal readers.
I have this vision in my head of my first day unpacking my things at college. It's all very 1950's housewife of me... I have this strong feeling that I'll spend the day unpacking and making sure my dorm room is perfectly set up. The sheets on, the computer at the desk, the few clothes I like put in drawers or hung up, the microwave, television, refigerator, and coffee maker all pluged in. And as soon as everything is as esthetically pleasing as possible I go into my suite bathroom, hiding for my roommate, and cry. Not just cry sob. Mental breakdown a la mode.
And I've never been more certain that something like this will happen.
I don't know my roommate. But I stupidly put down that I wanted a smoker, in retrospect I just assumed if they weren't against smoking cigarettes then they weren't against smoking pot. But I don't want a cigarette smoker in my dorm. And I'm convinced I'll get a thug. Also, never been more certain.
Because States roommates came yesterday and I already hate Alyssa, Bonnie, and Leanna's roomates. And I'll hate mine when I find out too... because I doubt they put me with "hot gay guy", which is what I would request if I could.
I don't know what to wear. I have a select few outfits I think I look good in, and not nearly enough for an entire school year.
I don't know what to bring. Should I get a coffee maker? I love coffee... and I'll need a cup at 3 in the morning sometimes. So I should. What if my roommate already bought a refrigerator? I hate my roommate.
And I'm not ready to make new friends. Fuck that. Fuck that person who sits next to me in my classes, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to know you. I don't want to get drunk with you at a party one night and then pretend that we bonded and are closer because of it. I don't want to make a first impression. Fuck you.
I'm sorry I just got so down on that guy, but he's really not that nice once you get to talking to him.
And I don't want creepy facebook patties to awkwardly hit on me and message me about being excited to come to Wayne. Would they leave me alone if I told them I'm not excited? That it's the single most anxiety catalyst in my world. That thinking of it makes me want to hurl.
So I won't think about it.
Until I find out who my roommate is
I have this vision in my head of my first day unpacking my things at college. It's all very 1950's housewife of me... I have this strong feeling that I'll spend the day unpacking and making sure my dorm room is perfectly set up. The sheets on, the computer at the desk, the few clothes I like put in drawers or hung up, the microwave, television, refigerator, and coffee maker all pluged in. And as soon as everything is as esthetically pleasing as possible I go into my suite bathroom, hiding for my roommate, and cry. Not just cry sob. Mental breakdown a la mode.
And I've never been more certain that something like this will happen.
I don't know my roommate. But I stupidly put down that I wanted a smoker, in retrospect I just assumed if they weren't against smoking cigarettes then they weren't against smoking pot. But I don't want a cigarette smoker in my dorm. And I'm convinced I'll get a thug. Also, never been more certain.
Because States roommates came yesterday and I already hate Alyssa, Bonnie, and Leanna's roomates. And I'll hate mine when I find out too... because I doubt they put me with "hot gay guy", which is what I would request if I could.
I don't know what to wear. I have a select few outfits I think I look good in, and not nearly enough for an entire school year.
I don't know what to bring. Should I get a coffee maker? I love coffee... and I'll need a cup at 3 in the morning sometimes. So I should. What if my roommate already bought a refrigerator? I hate my roommate.
And I'm not ready to make new friends. Fuck that. Fuck that person who sits next to me in my classes, I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to know you. I don't want to get drunk with you at a party one night and then pretend that we bonded and are closer because of it. I don't want to make a first impression. Fuck you.
I'm sorry I just got so down on that guy, but he's really not that nice once you get to talking to him.
And I don't want creepy facebook patties to awkwardly hit on me and message me about being excited to come to Wayne. Would they leave me alone if I told them I'm not excited? That it's the single most anxiety catalyst in my world. That thinking of it makes me want to hurl.
So I won't think about it.
Until I find out who my roommate is