I’m a Self-Proclaimed Pretentious Douche

I got my roommate assignment a few weeks ago. The whole thing was making me nervous. I’ve never really lived with another person. (My brother doesn’t count, because the arrangement ended within days; I taped off our sections of the room and he had to jump from his bed to the door because I didn’t give him much of an exit point.) Best case scenario, we become best friends forever. Worst case scenario, she’s secretly a psychologically unhinged killer who smothers me in my sleep the first time I leave a mess in the microwave. I’m holding out for some middle ground in which we coexist peacefully.

I mean, we’ve chatted on Facebook and we’ve divvied up the necessities, and she seems totally nice. We like the same TV shows, at least. But I’m afraid she’s more of an I-catch-an-episode-of-House-whenever-I’m-flipping-through-channels type of person, whereas I have several TV shows I watch religiously and will murder anyone who stands in my way. I’m also afraid I’m going to be That Roommate… you know, The One Who Never Leaves the Dorm. I’m going to make it my mission to go to at least one new place every day during Welcome Week.

Just sent a message to my roommate. I kept changing it up; I was like, “No, no, I can’t say it like that, I’ll look condescending and stupid,” and then it was, “Should I use a smiley face?” and then, “Should I cut back on the perfect punctuation so I don’t look like a pretentious douche?” First impressions are HARD, people. Don’t judge me!


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