My flatmates from hell

Having flatmates is like being in a toxic relationship. You don’t have the money to move out and live on your own, so they are the necessary evil in order for you to have a roof over your head. But every time they do something wrong you just hope that it was a one time thing. Every time you ask them to do or stop doing something and they simply don’t listen, you blame yourself and think that maybe you want too much from them. Every time you tidy the whole apartment so it’s clean at least once a month, only for them to come home that very evening and your hard work is gone within minutes, you just hope it’s going to get better…

But like in a toxic relationship, you can take only so much and blame yourself for only so long. I haven’t been in this game for so long… I had five flatmates for a year and the next year I moved in with only three, in both cases including my boyfriend. Most people would say that I am overreacting and hell, I think so too! But then I remember that I am the only one caring for the apartment, because I don’t want to live in a dump, I remember washing up those moldy pots, I remember the clogged kitchen sink that I have to clean up almost everyday, I remember the loud quarrels of couples that after hearing those I can’t even comprehend how are they still together, and most important I remember that fricking ukulele that is driving me completely nuts! I used to love ukulele… I wanted to learn to play ukulele…. and now? Now I want to throw that thing on the street, set it on fire and watch it get run over by a car.

And it’s not only my flatmates that are driving me crazy, oh no. Our landlord in the first apartment was a cool guy that couldn’t care less about anything, even us. But I suspect that our new landlady is some even worse creature than the devil himself and she’s so scary that people rather don’t even talk about her. The first day we moved in, we received an A4 paper that had rules written on it on both sides… The rules include what windows we can and can’t open and when, that we can’t roll the blinds all the way up, that we must wear home shoes, and much more. We can’t even control the heating in our rooms and we must take off and put on shoes outside of our apartment.

People would think that having flatmates is awesome. You have the TV series like Friends and New Girl, but let me tell you, it’s all lies!


The best years of your life… yeah about that

The best years of your life… yeah about that

“Oh, you are a university student? You are so lucky! Enjoy it, those will be the best years of your life.” yeaah…. I am not so sure about that man. It is one in the morning and I can’t fall asleep, because I am stressed out of my mind. And the best part? The semester hasn’t even started yet.

So basically, those “best years” consist of two semesters every years… each semester is stressful as hell at the beginning and the end… So you get like two stressful months at the beginning because of all the formalities and making sure that you enrolled for the right classes and that you properly managed all the other important stuff, and later on you get another two stressful months of exam period. And that’s the fall semestr, where we luckily have the summer holidays. In the winter semestr you have the beginning stress and stress from the exam period in one nice package. AAAAnd of course there is everything in the middle, the awesome time you have to manage your relationships, money and other adult stuff… which, if you are like me, is also very very veeeery stressful.

So basically you’re all telling me, that these are the best years of my life… the years when I am in constant stress and panic mode, I can’t sleep, I have no appetite, meantime I am trying to manage my job, and overall I am not handling this well… but it’s good to hear that those “real” adult years of only working will be even worse… can’t wait… having a master degree that is good for nothing and little to no work experiences… what the heck am I gonna do. I should take this blogging hobby more seriously and become a full-time blogger or whatever, because otherwise I can just about cry my eyes out.

As I said before, it’s one in the morning and I have not really a clue where I was going with this… and because everything else coming to my mind is basically existential crisis, I better stop now.

Just a little insight of a student’s mind… at one o’clock am… what a time to be alive

The torture of the dark and cold cave

There were only a few of us left. Outside was a beautiful spring day, the sun was shining and the first time in months it was actually warm. Yet we were here, in this dark and cold cave, with only dim light shining through the small aperture. We weren’t supposed to be here anymore, the torture was over, the freedom was so close… but we couldn’t go. Slowly but surely it was coming towards us, but it was still out of reach, our ticket to freedom. Not everyone was strong enough. The darkness was pulling meout-of-the-cave into its grasp, I started hysterically laughing, tears falling down my cheeks. I wasn’t the only one. The individual next to me was trying to joke, ease up the situation, but there was no use. We were all so desperate, knowing that even if we get out of here, even worse things are about to come. Not only were we getting depressed of the absence of light, but our hunger was making itself known. Most of us hadn’t eaten in days. There were some that straight up gave in, lying there without signs of life.
It was closer and closer. We could feel its presence. We couldn’t wait to get our hands on it, till finally! The attendance sheet got into our reach, twenty minutes after the end of the lecture. We signed it and got the hell out of that forbidden place, knowing that it was the last lecture of the semester and exam period was coming. Suddenly we wished that we could sit there forever, waiting for our ticket to freedom, because everything was better than the upcoming stressful days.