The Roommate Agreement

Well it's been a month away from Duffluff but my return is marked by a very special day in my new adult life...pay day. How nice it is to be paid to work - quite refreshing after grad school.

Life as a big girl is so far so good, with a lot of bills thrown in the mix. Moving back to Georgia came with a new apartment and a new roommate. I've had some pretty awesome roommates, but this one might be my favorite.

After five years of not living in the same city, we now live under the same roof. My two years of grad school were practically a lesson in isolation, so having someone always around is throwin' me off. Sometimes I peer out of the corner of my eye and get caught off guard that he's still here.

This isn't the first time we've lived together, though, because I stayed with him in Atlanta last summer when I worked for Turner. A 2 mile commute beats a 25 miles commute to my parents' house any day - even if I had to live in the ultimate bachelor pad.

Let me set the scene for you. His house in Atlanta was rented out by room, by nine different guys...and me. Our queen bed was lofted, and to get in you had to stand on the desk chair and launch yourself onto the mattress. Jason taught me to use the taser my first week there. There was a guy that lived on the first floor who had long red hair but was balding on the top - he smelled so bad that if his door was open we could smell him upstairs. I came home one day to find him standing at the sink shirtless, peeling hard boiled eggs.

Horror.

Luckily, I got to help pick our new apartment. I'm still under two miles from work, and our complex is very outdoorsy. We have a pond with fish (of which we've caught two so far), four tennis courts, two pools, and a two-mile running trail. We have granite countertops and all new appliances and a fireplace. And, most importantly, no smelly egg boy.

I think I'm gonna like being a big girl.