Coatracks, roommates and maturity

When I was 9 years old, my parents gave me their old coat rack to use in my bedroom. It was the first time we lived in a house that had a hall closet, and so we didn’t need the rack to serve as storage for winter-wear. I kept it in my room and having it made me feel so grown up, almost as if I was living in my own apartment. I’d wearing my coat all the way upstairs so that I could take it off and hang it on the rack. I remember thinking at that time that the only thing that could make me feel more grown up was if I had my own bathroom.

Ten years later, I became an RA in North Hall and for the first time in my life had my own bathroom. By that time I had mostly forgotten that it had been my marker of adulthood (although it gave me a bit of a thrill nonetheless). By that point, I was fixated on having a kitchen. When I had a kitchen, then I would really feel like a grown up.

Soon after, I got the kitchen, but I had to share it with roommates. At that point I decided that the pinnacle of grown-upness would be to live alone. That way the kitchen and the bathroom would be all mine. While I briefly achieved that self-described marker of adulthood for a brief time when I first lived in Philly, I haven’t lived alone now in more than four years.

Right now I’m at a fork in the roommate road. My current apartment-mate is moving out at the end of June. And given the fact that I am in grad school right now, without much of an income in sight, having someone share the expense of living here is a financial imperative. But I can’t seem to get myself to place the craigslist ad that would start the flow of potential renters.

I don’t actually think about it in terms of being a grown up or not anymore. I recognize that maturity comes from an ability to deal with the facts at hand and make responsible choices. It’s just that I am so tired of sharing space with people in whom I am not invested. However, I know that the mature decision in this situation is to suck it up and post an ad in order to find a roommate. Sadly, that doesn’t stop the nine-year-old inside of me from yelling about how she doesn’t want to. But I will.

Hey, anyone looking for a place to live?

*This is not a rant about my present or past roommates, I’ve actually been very fortunate in the arena and have lived with some really terrific people.