monday morning message #15

“A hotel isn’t like a home, but it’s better than being a house guest.”
~William Feather

Wise guy that William Feather. Actually, I would prefer living in a hotel right now, because in a hotel, people generally are happy to see you because you pay for your stay.

At “home” (aka my flat which I share with two other people), I also pay to stay – a funny thing called “rent”.

It’s the place where I live, where I spend most of my time, when I’m not at work. It’s the place where my personal belongings are, where I eat and sleep and where I should feel home.

Except I don’t. I feel like a house guest, except that I feel like an unwanted house guest. Like someone, who is allowed to stay, but only because it would be rude to ask them to leave.

It is ridiculous. I pay my rent on time, so I am totally eligible to live in this flat. I clean, I am a tidy person, I am nice.

And most important: I don’t steal toilet rolls.

This is totally ridiculous, I know, but let me explain: from one day to another five toilet rolls disappeared. They were just gone and no one seems to know what happened. Now, toilet rolls usually don’t just disappear, right?!

I don’t like accusing people, but I have a pretty good idea of what might have happened to those toilet rolls. As well as to the other things that disappeared (the milk bottle was suddenly half-empty, so was the shampoo bottle, the rice krispies… etc…). But I don’t want to go into further detail at this point, I think you already get what I am saying.

Now I wonder: why do I never seem to get a flat to share with “normal” people. I always shared flats with two other people and every single time, one of them was weird.

Last time, it got as far as one of my flatties was involved in illegal stuff as well as drug use and other nasty things.

I thought it couldn’t get worse, but maybe I’m wrong.

Last time, I was at least able to lock my bedroom. This time, I’m not, because there are no locks on the doors. And things keep disappearing.

Can’t life just be easy? Just for once? Please?

I really hope you haven’t made any of these experiences with flatmates, but I would like to hear your stories anyway! Have you ever shared a flat with strangers? How did it go? Friends for life or suspicion lurking at every corner?

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