On New Living Arrangements

Recently (yesterday) I moved into a new house that I'm renting with friends. For the first time in my life I am truly living on my own. No parents, no deans, no responsibility! Just friends and fun. Or so I would love to believe. In reality, this new found freedom comes with its own unique set of responsibilities. There's this horrible nuisance called rent that they tell me is going to come due once a month, as well as a bill for utilities, insurance, and a plethora of other fiscal burdens. All of this, in reality did not phase me. I paid my security deposit and first months rent with an equal share of trepidation and proudness that can only be found in new mothers. As I walked up the uneven cracked cement steps, key in hand, I was filled with a wildly exhilarating feeling. Freedom! I inserted the key into the lock and turned the handle, almost crying out with joy. Then I stepped into the sun room. I had only seen the property in the daylight and it looked homey and inviting. But at night the house could only be described at frightening. I checked my phone expecting to see a message, "Hey, it's the producers of paranormal activity, we want our house back so we can start filming." Now I wasn't frightened of rent payments at all, I was afraid of ghosts, apparitions, or axe bearing men in hockey masks. That's why I will be eternally grateful for roommates. Every time they wake me up with their cackling, special friends, or (god forbid) rap music, I will smile. Better noisy friends than a gaggle of grisly ghouls!