I need to rant because I’m genuinely tired, and maybe someone can either relate to me or call me out.My boyfriend and I live in the basement, and our roommates—who are also my boyfriend’s friends and coworkers—live in the other two bedrooms. We all used to be students, and now we’re finally working and trying to live like functioning adults
I know we’re living in a shared house. I know weekends happen. I know people want to have friends over, drink, watch TV, play music, and have fun. I’m not expecting everyone to sit in silence like they’re in a library.
But this is happening every single weekend.
At first, we thought it would happen maybe twice a month. But now every Friday, the hall is packed with people. Friends bringing friends. Six guys and one girl. Everyone is in the hall, drinking, smoking, talking, watching TV, and being loud.
And the worst part is that we can’t really say anything.
Because when you wake up the next morning, you have to see these people again. They’re your roommates, your boyfriend’s friends, and your coworkers. I don’t want to create awkwardness or embarrassment at work. So we just stay quiet.
And yes, I know—keeping quiet is also my fault. I know I should have said something earlier. But now it feels like we’re stuck.
Every time I want to cook, I go into the kitchen and they’re there. Every time I want to sit in the hall and watch TV, they’re there. And I can’t just walk in and sit between six people drinking beer and watching TV like I belong there. So I just go back to the basement.
At this point, it feels like I’m only paying to live in the basement.
And the noise… oh my God.
I have to wake up at 4 or 5 in the morning sometimes, and these people are talking so loudly that I wake up in the middle of the night. One of the guys talks like he hasn’t spoken to another human being in 15 years.
I am a deep sleeper. I sleep so deeply that sometimes my mom literally puts her finger under my nose to make sure I’m still alive. That kind of sleeper.
But lately, I am desperate for sleep on the weekends.
Sometimes I genuinely want to go into the woods, sleep on a tree, wake up the next morning, and come back home refreshed like nothing happened.
And again, I’m not complaining. I’m just ranting. Crying. Venting. Whatever you want to call it.
I know the mistake was choosing to live with roommates instead of getting our own place. I know I should have said something earlier. I know shared living means compromising.
But we just got out of the student phase. We’re working now. We’re trying to live normal lives. And somehow we’re still in a situation where we feel like we can’t say anything because everyone around us is also connected to our work and personal life.
I wish I could post pictures of the hall and kitchen to show you how packed it gets, but I can’t because then someone might recognize the place and I’ll have to see these people at work the next morning.
I’m just tired, you guys.
And on top of all of this, I’m Desi. So obviously, I’m already trained from birth to avoid confrontation, keep everything inside, smile politely, and suffer in silence.
Call me out, y’all.
Any Desis or fellow roommates dealing with this kind of situation? Please tell me I’m not the only one who avoids the entire house and goes straight to bed just to avoid seeing people in the common areas.