After your first 12 years of school, “Back to School” becomes less about Duo-tangs and pencil crayons and more about IKEA and leases. This weekend, Montreal’s collective stress level has risen 200% amidst the U-Hauls and damage deposits. I had the joy of partaking in the great student migration this fall, and am now enjoying the writing atmosphere of the quiet corner of my suburban apartment. This place has a couple key perks:
To co-habit or not to co-habit? Personally, I’m revelling in my ability to waltz around naked, sleep at weird times, and leave my jar of Nutella unguarded.
Let’s face it: the idea of becoming besties with your roomie is a huge lie. There’s a 99% chance you’ll thoroughly hate someone and all of their weird living habits after 2-12 months of shacking together. When they cook that smelly food you hate, when they don’t buy their own peanut butter, when they have that friend with the annoying laugh over the night before your exam, when they lock themselves out while you’re on a date … roommates are often not worth the trouble.
Finances pushes many university students to share their living spaces and sanity. However, there are alternatives (check out my second point below) which can keep both your bank balance and face far from that angry shade of red.
Yesterday, Friday, the streets of Montreal were flooded with drunk 18-year-olds in ripped-up, beer-stained shirts screaming chants and profanities in a supposed display of school spirit. Pan camera 1km south: the sun sets in silence on posh diners and tranquil citizens.
I don’t have any issues with going out and partying (hey, I’m still young!), but I must say that having an escape is absolutely amazing. No one’s going to disturb my Saturday night blogging over here.
The sight of trees and puppies and babies and cute old couples and stuff is pretty refreshing too. I’ve been thrown back into the real world after a year of illusions in the student bubble. It’s nice to feel part of a “real-world” community as well as my school community.
I’m hoping to not have to do this again for a few years, but in the meantime I think I’ll get rid of some of this junk I had to lug all the way here. I feel like a hoarder surrounded by all these boxes.
Signing off from suburbia.
PS. It’s still eerily quiet. Next step: make local friends.