Tomorrow I meet my new roommate. She is a complete stranger to me, yet in 48 hours we will be living in the same 11 by 17 foot space. We will share a bathroom. We will sleep next to one another and breathe the same air. We are going to know what the other looks like first thing in the morning. We are going to see each other's stuff and know if is tidy or not.
It is so strange for me to think about the fact that I will never share space with another human so intimately until I have a husband. Yet living with a husband makes sense, because, Lord willing, we will have spent time getting to know one another a bit before marrying. (This is merely conjecture. I could potentially have an arranged marriage, or be kidnapped and sold as the spoils of war.)
But not so with my new roommate. Never met her. The concept of two people who do not know each other who are expected to live together makes no sense to me.
I have my fears. I have heard plenty of scary freshman roommate stories. There is that one Patrick, my one legged older brother, told me about how his roommate was a cannibal. There was Kris who told me that her first roommate was a drug dealing prostitute. I may be going to a Christian school, but we Christians have faults too. What if she covets her neighbor or does not honour thy father and mother? That would stink.
But then I start to think about the other side of the coin; What will my roommate think of me?
I was packing up my craft supplies to move into my dorm. I held a bag of raw sheep's wool in one hand and a bag of trash in the other. The sheep's wool was given to me by Patrick, who is a sheep farmer in Vermont.
You can see his blog here. (He doesn't really only have one leg.) It smells like sheep poo. It is dirty and gross. I have a lot of it, because I want to clean it, card it and use it to make something cool. However, it is currently just a bag of sheep poo smelling wool, straight off the pooping sheep.
My favorite comedienne on poo balls. Watch advisedly, there is an S word.
The bag of trash is full of things I have collected from the recycling bin. Things may come in handy for a project; tea boxes, fruit netting, jars, fun wrappers etc.
My roommate does not yet know that she is going to be living with a trash horder and a smelly wool collecter. She does not know that I like to get up early or that I am a Krav Maga enthusiast who needs someone on whom to practice.
Read about me and Krav Maga here. She does not know that I have 8 pairs of shoes, but only one pair of feet. She doesn't know that I procrastinate showering and sometimes my toenails shoot across the room and injure people when I clip them. She doesn't know me.
But she will soon.
