Rant: The Impossibility of Finding Normal Housing
You: Great roommate and/or landlord
Seems simple enough, right? It is, except for this:
1) I don't really WANT to rent out your 3x8 closet, just off the laundry room. Just because you have consolidated and/or soiled all of your linens does not give you license to advertise your empty shelves as my potential new living quarters. If I can't fit a bed in it, it isn't a bedroom.
2) Ditto for your livingroom. Man, it's your fucking LIVINGROOM. There is a reason it's called a "livingroom" and not a "bedroom". If the only way for you to reach the kitchen, bathroom or your bedroom at any point necessitates traveling through my space, it does not qualify as a bedroom. I will not pay you for this.
3) Ditto for your back porch, your attic that would surely cause me palsy, your basement with no windows, or the suspicious "shed" in back.
4) Have you ever considered the fact that I have - gasp! - purchased my own lovely furniture over the years and therefore choose to, I don't know, maybe furnish my room myself?
5) I'd really like more than a hot-plate and a microwave. Hell I don't even use a microwave - not even for popcorn, which I make a killer bowl of over the stove, the old-fashioned way. Sprinkled with a bit of sea salt and toasted sesame seeds, it's really quite a treat - but unfortunately, you will never experience this because
6) You say there are no kitchen priviledges. I love to cook and am getting pretty darn good at it. I want to serve a dish and pop open a bottle of wine and enjoy an hour with my housemate/friend. I don't want to eat like a rat in the corner, munching quietly so as not to wake the Human.
7) Is it really my fault that you've had horrendous experiences with felines pooping in your slipper or scratching your furniture bare? Won't you allow me to fulfill my duty of introducing you to the cuddly reality of well-behaved, sleepy cats that purr and coo sweetly at you? Sure, it's fine when you are petting them and crying into their fur about that asshole lover, but no, no cats allowed here, sorry. May as well move to Transylvania with that scarlet letter on my forehead.
8) Please don't boss me around, and I won't boss you around. Please don't tell me what to eat (I am an organic carnivore), what to clean and when (I tidy my home every morning and do a vaccuum/scrub usually twice per week), or to not have overnight guests (I am not a slut but do have a long-distance boyfriend or a best friend that may stay a weekend here or there). I am not a teenager and appreciate not being treated as such. I have lived on my own for a decade and am quite competent. All I ask of you is that you don't keep your bong on the livingroom (there's that word again! blasted!) table, that you please don't blast the stereo after midnight unless we're having a dinner party, and that you keep the surfaces in the bathroom p&p free. I trust you to be an adult, and you should me.
9) What's with this credit check, letters from my employer and my checking account statement from 3 years ago to date? So you know, my credit history is terrible because of mistakes I made years ago, I work for myself quite successfully, and my checking account is none of your business. In lieu of all the paperwork, I will provide you with a letter from the landlord I've rented from the past 6 years, explaining that I have been a pleasure to have and have always paid my rent on time. What else, really, do you need...
10) ...when you're asking for first, last and twice-the-rent-amount deposit? I'm a 28 year old woman, not freaking Donald Trump.
11) Yes, I smoke. Cigarettes. Outside. On the porch. After dark. It's like a meditation. I make sure the door is closed. I actually hate the smell of cigarettes (go figure that one) so I am actually very conscientious. I dump out the ashtray every morning, when I tidy up the place (see #8 above). You cannot amply size me up based on my smoker status, so please cut it out. Alright. I'll promise not to say anything about your hidden stash of Tasty Cakes.
12) I'm actually a very sweet and simple gal, and if we live together, if history is a predictor, we'll end up being very tight friends for life. Please stop making me feel like a leper.