Living alone is pretty much the best. Oh, sure, roommates are great if you want to save money or want a built-in friend you secretly hate for never doing the dishes, but otherwise, living alone is pretty much the best.
But there are a few things you’ll start to notice after awhile. Some of them are good. Some of them are less good. Some of them are a bit terrifying.
And here they are.
1. Good luck eating your produce before it goes bad.
Oh, sure, go ahead. Buy that bunch of asparagus. I’m sure you’ll totally manage to eat it before it goes bad. You love asparagus, right? Cause you’ll need to eat that shit morning noon and night to get rid of it.
I mean, I fuckin’ love brussel sprouts. Love ‘em. But if I don’t eat ‘em on consecutive days, it’s not gonna go well. You ever eat a whole package of brussel sprouts? Jesus Christ.
Sure, you can buy frozen veggies, but I don’t know, man, it’s just not he same.
Speaking of meals…
2. Making exactly enough food for one person is fucking impossible.
It just isn’t. Never mind the sides. How the hell are you gonna make a casserole for one? Oh god, when you say it like that, it sounds kinda sad. Does… this casserole taste like tears to you? Why am I asking?
But hey, at least you can have leftovers! Surely you love eating the same reheated food 8 days in a row, right?
3. That noise you heard? Definitely a murderer/rapist/robber/monster?
If you’re living alone (and especially if you’re a girl, or so I’m told), every awkward noise is something to be alarmed out. It’s probably just someone breaking into your window, coming to harvest your organs. No big deal.
Unless you have a dog or cat. In which case it’s definitely them destroying your shit. Which you pay for. Nice.
4. Nobody else makes dirty dishes. (And nobody else cleans them, either.)
There’s something to be said for not playing the blame game. Dirty dishes in the sink? Yep, that was you drunkenly making pizza rolls at midnight. Doesn’t matter if you can’t remember it. Your cat sure as hell didn’t do it.
Honestly, it’s pretty liberating being 100% responsible for everything.
5. You never have to wear pants, ever.
I mean, enough said, right?
But seriously. Who wants to put on pants to go to the bathroom. Not me, not you. Not anybody.
6. Who’s judging you for your music/TV tastes? Nobody.
Go ahead. That Selena Gomez jam that’s been stuck in a loop in your head? Belt it out. The only thing stopping you is your own shame, and let’s face it, that was gone a month ago. You don’t need to tell your therapist about this one, right? It’s just between us.
Bachelorette marathon? Oh that shit is on.
7. If you’re single, and get lucky, you have zero worries about letting anybody know.
No roommate to awkwardly introduce and/or tell to gtfo. No awkward breakfast conversations with that said roommate who is wearing sweatpants for the third day in a row?!
Plus, that weird noise you make during lovemaking? Nobody has to know. Well, except him or her. There’s nothing you do about that one. Sorry.
8. You never have to wait to shower or pee. Ever.
Oh man. This used to kill me. I swear to fucking god my old roommate had this internal clock where he somehow knew when I needed to get to work and/or pee incredibly badly and then suddenly decided to take a 10 minute dump followed by a 15 minute shower. I swear.
I’ve actually gone and peed outside rather than waiting.
9. Bills, Bills, Bills.
Sure, it’s cool for Beyonce to pay her own bills. We’re all proud of her. But living alone is a good way to spend a lot of money really quickly.
You’ll learn really quickly just how much Comcast charges for Started Limited Bundle Double Play Xfinity Edition. And you will want to kill yourself.
10. When you get sick, there’s nobody to take care of you.
Of course, if you’re a dude living with dude roommates, chances are, nobody is coming to tuck you in and make you soup anyway, so stop being a baby already, geez.
But it is nice, sometimes, to have company when you’re not feeling well. On the other hand, if you’re hungover…
11. Peace and fucking quiet.
There is nothing more glorious than spending the entire day on the couch watching gardening TV shows when you’re hungover on the lowest possible volume available to human beings with the shade drawn.
The outside world? Psht. That’s for suckers.
You do you, boo.