Writer's Block: Roommate from Hell

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I've been really lucky as far as roommates go. My freshman roommate and I were never best friends or anything, but we kept our stuff on our respective sides of the room, were considerate about not being too loud or leaving lights on while the other was sleeping, were able to negotiate sharing a few key things, and were conversational with one another. That year I had a couple of issues with my suitemates (we were two doubles joined by a bathroom) locking my side of the bathroom and forgetting to unlock it when they were done-- which is still pretty minor when you consider the many crazy roommate stories I've heard-- but my roommate and I got along fine.

Sophomore year onward, I roomed with my best friend Lisa-- first in a double, then junior year along with Michellanne and another Amy in a four-single suite, and again senior year along with Brandy and Tricia in a four-single apartment. I can't recall any major issues with anyone in those living situations either. Admittedly I don't remember much of my four month stay in Wheeler dorm junior year-- Lisa apparently didn't like it too much, but I think I was just preoccupied with a lot more pressing trauma to even acknowledge the pros and cons of my living situation-- but living with Lisa in our little handicapped suite with the giant bathroom was great (though it did get a little tricky when we both had boyfriends) and I loved my apartment senior year. We were all friends, we cooked and went out and threw parties and stuff together. There were periodic minor issues, but nothing one person did was ever any worse than something another one of us had done at another time-- and a lot of time it was the fault of all of us together, like the time we realized we were all letting food more than four months old rot away in our fridge O.o

I guess I did have one nightmarish roommate, but she was only for one day. She shared my hospital room after we both got our tonsils out. I was 7 and she was 9. I was doing as well as you could expect after the surgery; I didn't want to eat, drink, or talk much, but I was pretty easy-going about the fact I wasn't going to be at my best. I listened while Mom read me stories and got a little weepy when the great irony of tonsilectomies was revealed to me-- that yes, you can eat all the ice cream you want, but you don't want it-- but I was basically fine. However, my roommate must not have been prepared for the pain, or reacted badly to the anesthesia or pain medication or something, because she was nightmarish. She screamed, threw things, and pulled the IV out of her arm. The hospital staff pulled up the partition between our beds, but I still had to walk through her side of the room to use the bathroom. It was a little scary. They let me go home that night allegedly because I was doing so well, but Mom thinks they might have only let me because staying overnight with my roommate might not have been safe, let alone the quiet and pleasant recovery time I needed.

Writer's Block: Roommate from Hell

[Error: unknown template qotd]

I've been really lucky as far as roommates go. My freshman roommate and I were never best friends or anything, but we kept our stuff on our respective sides of the room, were considerate about not being too loud or leaving lights on while the other was sleeping, were able to negotiate sharing a few key things, and were conversational with one another. That year I had a couple of issues with my suitemates (we were two doubles joined by a bathroom) locking my side of the bathroom and forgetting to unlock it when they were done-- which is still pretty minor when you consider the many crazy roommate stories I've heard-- but my roommate and I got along fine.

Sophomore year onward, I roomed with my best friend Lisa-- first in a double, then junior year along with Michellanne and another Amy in a four-single suite, and again senior year along with Brandy and Tricia in a four-single apartment. I can't recall any major issues with anyone in those living situations either. Admittedly I don't remember much of my four month stay in Wheeler dorm junior year-- Lisa apparently didn't like it too much, but I think I was just preoccupied with a lot more pressing trauma to even acknowledge the pros and cons of my living situation-- but living with Lisa in our little handicapped suite with the giant bathroom was great (though it did get a little tricky when we both had boyfriends) and I loved my apartment senior year. We were all friends, we cooked and went out and threw parties and stuff together. There were periodic minor issues, but nothing one person did was ever any worse than something another one of us had done at another time-- and a lot of time it was the fault of all of us together, like the time we realized we were all letting food more than four months old rot away in our fridge O.o

I guess I did have one nightmarish roommate, but she was only for one day. She shared my hospital room after we both got our tonsils out. I was 7 and she was 9. I was doing as well as you could expect after the surgery; I didn't want to eat, drink, or talk much, but I was pretty easy-going about the fact I wasn't going to be at my best. I listened while Mom read me stories and got a little weepy when the great irony of tonsilectomies was revealed to me-- that yes, you can eat all the ice cream you want, but you don't want it-- but I was basically fine. However, my roommate must not have been prepared for the pain, or reacted badly to the anesthesia or pain medication or something, because she was nightmarish. She screamed, threw things, and pulled the IV out of her arm. The hospital staff pulled up the partition between our beds, but I still had to walk through her side of the room to use the bathroom. It was a little scary. They let me go home that night allegedly because I was doing so well, but Mom thinks they might have only let me because staying overnight with my roommate might not have been safe, let alone the quiet and pleasant recovery time I needed.