When I was younger I created plans for my life; “tiny prayers to father time” as Death Cab puts it.

I dreamed of having my own place that I kept clean from day one, with rooms that had colorful (but tasteful) painted walls, extremely comfy couches, shelves filled to the brim with books on design and light fixtures one would think cost me $100 for Pier1 but really cost me $10 because I made them myself (thank you, 3D design).

As I’ve gotten older, I realized that this probably won’t happen my first few years in the real world (if ever). Due to money issues, I’m going to have to live with people with different tastes and ideas about how they pictured their first apartment. I’m okay with that. I’m okay with giving up the colorful walls and the lighting fixtures because one day I’ll have my own house and I’ll marry a person who loves comfy couches and book collecting and I’ll keep the quirkier things for my home office/ studio.

Recently, my present situation has forced me to think about where I’m going to live past December (maybe even past August).

I just hope I get a summer job so I can start to save up for my own place or a place with one of my best hometown friends within 3 years time. The friends that I’ve shared almost everything with and known long enough to get that I’m conservative for my age but not feel awkward if I want to explore the wild side (and by wild I’m thinking either drunk karaoke or rooftop golfing slightly buzzed, but not enough to fall off said roof).

I’m just sick of complaining about the personalities of my roommates and or suite mates and I’m sure my parents are sick of hearing it.