1. I feel guilty for feeding myself.
For the most part, I am happy to be done with meal plans. Never again will I need to resort to a bucket of cloudy ice cream water to clean my ice cream scooper, and for that I am eternally grateful. But the good thing about meal plans is that you’re charged a flat rate. The pain of parting with your hard-earned money is concentrated into large, but infrequent, payments. The real world is not so merciful, administering small doses of guilt whenever you buy groceries or pay for a meal. Even if you end up spending less money overall than on a meal plan, there is no escaping the constant reminders of your shrinking bank account.
2. I’ve learned that cleaning is something that actually needs to be done.
Remember how unthinkably disgusting your dorm’s bathrooms got over the weekends, when there was no cleaning staff to manage the mess? If you’re like me, you were quick to blame your floor mates for the exponential accumulation of filth that occurred over the span of two days. And to an extent, you were right. Much of it was their fault. But if I’ve learned anything after two weeks in an apartment, it’s that people are universally disgusting. You, unfortunately, are no exception. Just think about all the things that come out of your body on a regular basis. Then add dishes, garbage, dust, hair and all the spillable things you own. Things get gross real fast.
3. I know how each of my roommates feels about being naked.
Our apartment provides a level of privacy that brings out our true colors, at least in regards to attitudes towards nudity. The nudists among us, uninhibited by the possibility of unintentional encounters with strangers, have no qualms about stripping down as soon as they walk through the door. Meanwhile, the never-nudes – once forced behind towels in vain attempts to shield their bodies while changing – now find solace in the privacy offered by their own room, where they can slide their pants on over those denim cut-offs without an audience.
4. My outfits have, on average, become less attractive.
I don’t even know where I’m supposed to do my laundry yet. Wherever it is, it’s definitely requires going up and down stairs, which I’ve only had to do for one of the three years I’ve been in college. As a result, I have yet to do my laundry, and my only clean clothes are ones that I probably shouldn’t have wasted my money on in the first place.
5. I’m totally rethinking tables.
Right from the start, it was somehow universally understood that our eating area table would not be used at mealtime. The table is reserved for our keys, mail, and prescription medication. In fact, the table is the only place that is off limits for meals. Everywhere else is fair game. I found a bottle of hot sauce in my roommate’s bed last week.
6. My Vines are better.
My apartment, which is significantly larger than the room I just left, is bursting with Vine potential. I’ve expanded my Vine-rizons, moving beyond the close-up stuff and into the zoomed-out shots that my new space affords. Moreover, the fact that I’m living with three people means there’s almost always someone around to assist with my Vine-devours.
7. I’ve gotten worse at brushing my teeth.
I’ve gotten used to sharing a bathroom with twenty people. As weird as it was to have an audience whenever I brushed my teeth, at least I made sure to do a good job, lest I was seen cutting corners and became known as Unhygienic Mouth Girl. My new living situation has provided me with more bathroom privacy, which is good on many, many levels. But as it turns out, it’s not so easy to brush for the full 120 seconds if no one’s there to judge you.