“Welcome to our shoebox”. This is the phrase my roommate and I use to greet people as they enter the place we call home. Well, it was bound to happen but after going on 7 months of living in this “shoebox” I snapped. I snapped for no reason other than the usual stress of college, but my breakdown made me realize something: I don’t thank my roommate enough.
I’m not usually one for these cliché posts, but this one is necessary, so bear with me through the cheesey-ness.
Roomie,
First and foremost, thank you for letting me sing 24/7-but more importantly thanks for singing with me. I look forward to nothing more than our car rides home with Hamilton and Wicked blasting through the stereo.
Thank you for letting me complain about my senior comprehensive every Tuesday and Thursday. I know that must get old, but you always let me vent, and know that I am forever grateful.
Thank you for always saying yes to watching 10 Things I Hate About You.
Thank you for reading over every paper/article that I have ever written (except this one, hopefully no grammatical errors!)-perks of having a roomie who is an English major, am I right?
Thank you for listening to my most recent “life crisis” as we lay in bed each night.
Thank you for letting me raid your closet every day- you may not like your clothes but I sure do!
Thank you for never taking me seriously- I don’t know what I would do if you didn’t understand my sarcastic sense of humor.
Thank you for inspiring my faith- you probably don’t know this but your kindness toward others and your trust in God guides me in my own faith journey.
Thank you for all the advice-I know we joke that I never take it, but I promise that your honest input doesn’t go unnoticed.
Thank you for still loving me at my worst-the breakdowns have been at an all time high this semester and I cannot thank you enough for always listening and making my day brighter with a sticky note on my desk.
So yeah, maybe we live in a shoebox, but if I’m going to be living in a shoebox, I’m thankful it’s with you.