I arrived at my quaint, two-unit house on Gerald Road a couple of weeks ago with high hopes for the semester ahead. Since I was a consistent loser in the BC housing lottery, this house was a major upgrade from the traditional double I had lived in for the past two years. I spent all summer fantasizing about sharing a kitchen and bathroom with fewer than 30 people.
Like many juniors at BC, I am studying abroad this spring. With breaks factored in, that means I will have roughly 100 days on Gerald.
I have approximately 100 days to learn how to “adult” after spending the last two years in the BC bubble. Nurtured by RAs and dining halls, it was easy to still feel like a kid. Just like during my teenage years, the “adult” responsibilities were taken care of. Trash was picked up, electricity bills were paid, the Wi-Fi was constantly working, and meals were cooked for me.
Somehow, since the day we moved in, our sink has always been full. At all hours, there are pots and pans in it, sitting in soapy piles. When someone points them out, my roommates will claim they are “just soaking.”
I know it always takes a while to get comfortable in a new living situation, but something about this house makes it hard to settle in.
The knowledge that we are only here for a short time encourages us to shirk our adult responsibilities. It feels like we are living in someone else’s home, waiting for vacation to end and for us to return to the dorms.
As a result, we’ve been putting off all the “adulting” that is required to take good care of this house. We wake up to a dirty dishwasher, assuming someone else is going to run it. We’ve been terrible about locking our doors, and somehow, we already managed to blow a fuse. Is it common knowledge not to plug two hairdryers into the same outlet?
During move-in, my roommates and I went to HomeGoods to buy cutlery and instead left with a 4-foot tapestry proclaiming that, “Croissants are a Superfood.” We ate with plastic forks for another week.
After a month of putting it off, it’s time to grow up. We are scared to make ourselves feel at home when we’ll be moving out in just 90 days, but that’s exactly why we should.
Instead of hiding from our responsibilities, we have to tackle adulting head-on. Those dishes have to get washed. That trash needs to be taken out. Maybe I’ll even clean out the fridge without being asked. The possibilities are endless.
I am going to make the best of this house. Those holes in the walls just give the house character! The rats in the backyard? Just new neighbors.
Speaking of neighbors, Steve, the 80-year-old who lives in the house on the corner, casually mentioned to us that he owns a shotgun. I’m thinking of calling him up to take care of the rat problem.
We are making this house a home and turning it into a well-oiled machine. Just because something is temporary doesn’t mean it is trivial.
I’ve been afraid to settle because I don’t want to be sad when the time comes to leave, but avoiding it makes the time feel less rewarding.
I always thought it was unusual that the junior class lives off-campus rather than the seniors, but now I see it as a lesson in adulting. By next year, we’ll have more important things to learn about than how much spaghetti is appropriate to cook for one person.
And while I can’t tell you how much spaghetti to make, I can tell you this: It’s time to get comfortable and embrace this change. Instead of viewing these duties as responsibilities, see them as opportunities to grow. I’m not opposed to the occasional “soak” of a pan, but let’s get real—it’s nonstick.
