Hey. I’m still alive. I’ve actually ended things with the now ex boyfriend who I miss like my best friend (because he was my best friend), but my pup and I found a sweet apartment with a backyard, and I’ve been spending a lot of time decorating my new room and crying while riding public transportation. There have been ups and a great many downs.

One of the ups has been being able to eat all the shitty shitty shit food that I always want to eat without feeling judged for smothering my sadness in nachos and ice cream, but the downside of this is that without feeling judged into stopping at a reasonable point, I just keep eating until I look in the mirror and have to come to terms with the squinty, Oreo faced monster  I’ve become.

The greatest downer of all is going back to having roommates. And this is New York – you could end up with anyone, so I should count my blessings, but I really got used to having a roommate with almost the exact same cleanliness habits as me: tidy and not a swamp beast.

I also loved the way my last roommate smelled. That homie could have just run a marathon and I would’ve been like YEAH.

One of my new roommates somehow cannot shower without the entire bathroom floor becoming an ocean, and the bath mat with a cute pink bird on it became a gray sludge rag within a week. There are few things worse than stepping out of a nice warm shower, fresh and clean, and stepping down onto a squishy, moldy, cold mat.

He’s my almost my age (he describes himself as an “old 26”) but this guys acts like he’s a 21 year old trying to act like a 26 year old. His room is huge, not even just by New York standards, like it could be its own studio, but he works like 15 hours a week (if that) at a tiny coffee shop, and he never cooks (though that’s a blessing, let’s be real), just orders tons of expensive food and booze, and he’s constantly getting all these huge packages of expensive room decoration things.

If you’re from a loaded family, man, gooooood for you, but don’t pair that shit with both inconsiderate messiness and the type of insecurity that causes someone to blare jazz music and tell everyone over and over again about their extensive training at two pretentious rich kid havens. YOU WORK IN A COFFEE SHOP PART TIME AND SAY YOU HAVEN’T HAD TIME TO LOOK FOR A REAL JOB.

And my other roommate is really nice, but she’s a little much. She didn’t want my dog to pee in the backyard (SORRYNOTSORRYTHATSWHYICHOSETHISPLACEITSHAPPENING), and she wants to set all sorts of ground rules, and like also wants to be social, and I’m almost certain she wouldn’t be cool with one of her roommates smoking pot (RESPECTFULLY OUT THE WINDOW), and the worst part is that whenever she cooks, the whole apartment smells like her B.O.

I don’t know…you know how some people just have intense, weird smelling body odor? She is one of these people, and she cooks very oveny, meaty things very often, and then for some reason the whole place smells like her bod. It’s a lot.

It also sucks watching my dog go through the move and the break up. She’s a happy girl and I know she’ll be okay, but she just gives me these looks, like “Where is he? When are we going home?” and she won’t stop barking at the swamp beast rich kid roommate (like, I get it, but you HAVE TO STOP).

This morning, we saw a slender man wearing business slacks who, from a distance, looked similar to my ex, walking ahead of us while we were out jogging, and my dog started barking and pulling ahead like crazy. I started crying. She really misses him. So do I.

 

 

 

 

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