*Gasp* “Are you serious, you live… alone? How dare you. Why would you ever?”
This is typically how people react when I tell them my three lovely (smart, beautiful, successful, powerful, snackful af) roommates are me, myself, and I. The concept of living alone is almost considered taboo for college students. Scrambling to find others that want to share a space with you for a whole school year is a springtime ritual. Last year was the first year that I plainly said “lol no thanks.”
I decided that senior year was going to be about personal growth. I wanted to try things I’ve never done. I’ve loved every roommate I’ve ever had and would consider myself lucky in that regard. Living alone, however, made the list of new things I wanted to try so I figured, what do I have to lose?
I will admit, though, it was a scary jump to make. What if the room is tiny? What if it’s gross? What if I’m naked, faint, hit my head and nobody finds me? What if I can’t zip the back of my dress? (lol scratch that, I don’t dress up) What if I set off the fire alarm from a candle and have nobody else to put the blame on? What if I need something but don’t want to get up and grab it? WHAT IF I HAVE A GHOST!?
Welcome to the inner mechanisms of my brain. (Pure shenanigans). Well except, the ghost thing was a true concern of mine but maybe they’ll be a friendly ghost and not an a-hole.
Living alone would allow me to have my own space, listen to whatever music I want without shame, make a morning mess and take care of it in the evening (or next week), eat microwave popcorn in bed, and push myself to get out and socialize.
In late August, I drove my rumpus up to Snorbs and moved right on in to Hugh Hall. From the outside, it looks like a neglected elementary school. Staring at it, if I would have rolled my eyes any harder they would have rolled out of my head. Not thrilled. From the inside, it looks like a hotel. The new name of my new home would then become; the Hughtel.
The room at first glanced looked meh. Like… super meh. The bright fluorescent lights don’t do anybody (or any room) any favors. I knew that, despite the blinding lights, this new unfamiliar space was mine. I would need to decorate the living sh*t out of it to get there but I felt motivated and inspired to get it to a place that I would want to come home to.
After having lived in the Hughtel for 6 weeks, I’ve become accustomed to residing by myself. The thought of having a ghost still crosses my mind in the moments before falling asleep but overall, it has been the best decision I could have made this year. I’ve become more independent and have learned to love spending time with myself in the moments that I’m not surrounded by others.
The room is mess city right now. I’m hoping one of these days I’ll channel the memories of my mom hollering at me to “clean my gosh darn* room” because “how the fork* could someone live in such a short*hole!” Once that day comes, I’ll give a ‘lil preview into the current state of the Hughtel. But until then, pray that those memories still exist within my mind because otherwise, I’m forked.*
(*content has been censored)