Freshman year my roommate and I were an excellent match. Everything was neat and organized, except for her bed, the occasional pile on my desk, and my bed until I made it at some point in the day. We had similar sleep schedules, and almost always kept the room peacefully quiet for each other. There was something missing though; we were weren't really friends.
At the beginning of this year another would-be-roommate transferred, and so I was scouring the oversized freshman class to pick out another roommate. This time I wanted to find that thing I was missing last.
I definitely found it, don't get me wrong. My roommate and I are super close. I'm pretty sure we've told each other secrets that no one else knows. Countless late night conversations are now precious to my memories. I've even become friends with her friends, and made ourselves a kind of family. There's just one tiny thing I would change about her...
There was no turning point once it was discovered. Once we agreed to room together, she moved from a temporary room two floors below me. I went down with a friend to help move her up, and wow. As soon as I opened the door, wow. She had so much stuff. Way too much stuff. How did she even fit all that stuff in the triple she moved out of? I had the majority of my things fit in two suitcases to move cross country, and still felt like I had too much. So many boxes and bag, this girl had. How was she going to fit it all in her drawers, in her half of the closet, and under the bed? She didn't.
Boxes, bags, and piles went on her desk, stacked on her desk chair, and in front of the space that was her side.
"Don't worry, I'll unpack later," she said once all her stuff was in the room. She took a juice box and her laptop to her bed.
"Oh, you're fine," I smiled, trying to hide the panic in my voice.
But she didn't unpack later. Not really. To my untrained eye, all remained the same in just slightly smaller piles.
A few weeks later I decided to let it go. I consciously choose to expect the pile to stay the same. That way I wasn't going to be disappointed or anxious when it didn't. I know this won't work for everyone, but for me it helped with that one area of the room. I was even pleasantly surprised when part way through second semester a handful of boxes disappeared.
It wasn't all peaceful though. Sometimes the frustration had to be channeled somewhere. I would then completely organize my side. Never did I leave my room again, without first making my bed.
I would get a bit flustered on the rare occasion when a slipper founds its way next to my bed. Once when I saw her laptop resting on my bed while her sheets were in the wash, I had to leave the room at once.
The worst though was over Spring break. She went home to her summer job, and I stayed to work in the city. There, once I was alone, was her side, staring back at me, mocking me. Silent and still with no occupant. There was no longer a friend offered to pay for its existence.
Frustrated, I thoroughly Spring-cleaned my side, and even swept my corners and under my desk. Then slowly... slowly I began to inch my way over to her side. Dusting the corner by the door we both used, then the space in front of her bed. Then between chair legs, and the gift bag I'd given her, that just sat unused on the floor. Basically I got the places that were easy to reach without moving too much. I was simultaneously satisfied to finally remove the dust, but also bitter knowing she'd never see what was there before I came along and fixed it.
At the very beginning of Spring break I did something I'm not proud of. I took pictures of the exact tumble of un-tucked covers, and tea boxes left on her unattended bed, so I'd get it exactly right when I re-unmade her bed upon her return. I made her bed! Just because I'd have to see it across the room while she was gone. It was the first and only time that I'd even seen her bed made. I watched her put everything back on after washing it, and she slide an entire corner of the bedspread to lay on top of the other never to be fully made, and already ready for her to tuck herself in. I even took more pictures of her bed made up, so I could remind myself of how it looked.
Just appreciate how satisfying this is!
My advice to anyone who finds themselves as the "neat roommate" in a roommate relationship; don't be afraid to speak up. Communication is key. The time I smelled something rotting the fridge? I should have said something right away. I shouldn't have expected her to magically notice her old burrito when she had forgotten about it in the first place. I should have said something sooner, because it was me who had to say something later anyway.
When talking seems unnecessary don't be afraid to "act up" for yourself either. My roommate told me she was fine if I pushed her things around a little to make room for my stuff if ever the need arise. I shouldn't have been as afraid to close her drawers in our closet because oh it felt so good.
Also, and this is key; don't expect your roommate to change. She probably won't. It puts an unfair strain on your relationship if you do. School is stressful enough, and not everyone feels cathartic as they clean. My roommate was upfront about being messy, so points to her, and points to any messy roommate that does the same.
If you keep these things in mind, it is quite possible that you can live in harmony with one side messy, and one neat, just as my roommate and I have.
