So, it’s that time of year again when people move out of their family home, embark on a fresh new start at university with people they’ve never met before or their friends from halls of residence.
I did that last year. I had my room all packed up into boxes, never able to find any nice underwear and digging through a battered suitcase for my favourite lipstick. Typical. I was ready to start my second year with three people I considered friends, my life was going so well at the time. Finances in check, moving plans were all sorted out and I wanted my own independence back!
Fast forward a few weeks, maybe two months, and all hell broke loose. Someone who I had defended to an inch of my life and considered a best friend had hit their maximum overdraft in their bank account. No job, no help, etc. Things got sticky… Borrowing money from their other half, etc. I truly felt sorry for them. I’d pop into the town centre, see something that would cheer them up and present it to them later on in the day; offer to pick food up for them whenever I was in the shop, or in McDonalds, etc… Heck, even my mum wanted me to give them money for food shopping! Then I’d see things coming in the mail… addressed to them. How could they afford this? Needless to say, I got fed up and so did the other two housemates. I officially called it quits with this housemate, ignoring text messages, etc. I didn’t want to hear about constant money problems when they didn’t go and get a job whilst I was at uni all week and at work all weekend… Bitching about supposedly ‘best friends’ to others didn’t sit well with me either.
Not only did that happen, but people were lazy with cleaning up after themselves. There came a point where me and my boyfriend had to take out the recycling, the trash and wash up all the pots, pans and plates…
You think living with your closest friends will be the best thing ever… Give it a few weeks, maybe months, and you may regret your own decision and that tenancy was the worst thing you’ve done yet.