I grew up in a family of six children, which meant that no matter what, someone was always around. Now, my three younger sisters and I live with my mother in a two-bedroom apartment. I usually sleep on a mattress on the floor for the few weeks I'm home out of the year, but my bed is currently being occupied by my oldest sister, who is staying with us for a few months.
After I graduate this May, that little two-bedroom apartment is going to be pretty dang crowded, and I won't be able to afford rent on my own in California for a while. I'm considering toting some couch cushions out onto the balcony and sleeping there. It'll be like camping, except instead of a tent and campfire, I'll have the disapproving stare one gruff, old neighbor across the way who waters his begonias early each morning.
That being said, this two-week Spring Break has been the most experience I've ever had living alone, and I love it. As an introvert who is very passionate about dancing about in various states of (un)dress, I'm somewhat concerned about how much I like having a place to myself. What if I never want to shack up with someone?
Most people seem to worry about never finding a mate. I'm more worried I'll find one, but demand that we live in separate houses for the rest of our lives. Like sea horses. Or a 50s sitcom taken to the extreme.
|Whoa there, Ricky. You just keep to your own bed there, pal.|
Via The Smoking Jacket