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Home Alone

April 25, 2011


So this weekend, unbeknownst to me, my roommates all decided to leave town. Now maybe I should have seen this coming, it being Easter and all, but somehow I didn’t think about it until the weekend was upon us. Maybe this is because I am Jewish and do not think about such things. Maybe it is because I have always had a friend or family member come to visit me over Easter weekend in the past. I don’t know.

I come home from class on Thursday afternoon (which for some reason BU decided should be a Monday) and I yelled my usual greeting to see if anyone is home. I was greeted with…crickets. I then text all of them to discover that they are either already home, or are en-route to their house. (fun fact: my roommates live in New York, New Jersey and Ohio).

At first it was kind of nice. Being Passover, I had been cooking for myself for the past couple of days, so it was not that weird to eat alone. Thursday night I also had a giant term paper to write, so honestly I was not planning on going out, and enjoyed the silence when I stayed up to 4:30 AM finishing it. I even left my laptop and notes all over the kitchen table (something I try to avoid doing when I know other will eat near them).

Friday rolled around and I went to class and then proceeded to an event I had been putting together for the entire semester immediately after. I was busy running errands, putting up decorations and dealing with logistics. A couple friends who attended the event decided to go out with me afterward, so even then I did not notice the absence so much.

Then came Saturday. I woke up to the eerie silence of an empty apartment. It was raining out, and usually in my apartment that calls for a day of movies and doing almost nothing. I crept out into our living room to make myself some coffee when it hit me…I was all alone. I was saved when a friend of mine called and invited me to brunch around noon. This was followed by a day of intense shopping at the Pru Mall. When I finally came home, I felt a pang again when I realized that I had no one to show my purchases to (because clearly the best part of buying a dress is showing it off to your friends). I sent a half-hazard picture message to one of my roommates but it just wasn’t the same.

By the time Sunday came I realized I was in trouble when I woke up at 1 PM. I read some of my emails and text messages to find that not only was it sunny out but it was a steamy 75 degrees here in Boston. And what did I do all day? Watched TV in my room and read a book. When I started contemplating dancing around the apartment in my underwear Risky Business style to break up the silence, I knew it was time to call someone to meet me for dinner. When my Jewish friend, who had spent the weekend in Rhode Island on a photojournalism assignment, came up to my apartment and looked around her response was, “Wait…Are you the only one home?”

The moral of this story is that however independent I like to think that I am, I really do not enjoy living by myself. Left to my own devices I will not only order way too much takeout, but also develop anti-social habits that will undoubtedly lead to a future as a cat lady. Having roommates is not only a way to keep the rent down, it is like having a second family. And when they go away, I really do miss them.

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