“Owwww,” my roommate sleepily groaned. “Meaghan, stop dropping things on my head.”
This had been going on for about a week now. I hadn’t been able to sleep for a couple of weeks and had gotten into the habit of reading in bed in an effort to put myself to sleep. In reality I would read for about 20 minutes or so before my guilt about still being up on a school night would take over (even though I’m a college kid old habits die hard) and then I would toss and turn for another 30-40 minutes before finally falling into a restless slumber. I don’t know why I couldn’t sleep–maybe I had a lot on my mind, maybe I was too busy. But no matter how hard I tried, those Z’s simply wouldn’t come.
One thing you need to know about reading in bed is that sometimes when your bed is high-lofted, things falls out. Usually this would be no big deal, but sometimes you have a roommate whose bed is positioned in such a way that their head might become the target for any objects that become airborne during the night.
Which mysteriously began to occur a little after 2 a.m. early one March morning, strangely after I began reading in bed.
What’s funny about this situation is that what could have been a oddly violent roommate conflict actually opened up further opportunities for bonding. After I profusely apologized and promised to stop bringing droppable cargo into bed (this was after the third plunge) we began to laugh about it. My roommate is an English major, so all stereotypes aside, she of course began a dramatic retelling of our ‘roommate woes’ to all our friends. When we turned out the lights, casual reminders to remove any droppable objects from the premise turned into laughter, then stories and late night conversations. We would talk about our days, about boys, about friendships, about stresses and worries. Our sleepy chatter and giggles late into the night became the perfect way to end a long day. It stopped being so hard to fall asleep.
Looking back on my sophomore year I already begin to feel a little nostalgic. The year was a lot harder than I thought it would be. Classes and friendships and pretty much everything became more difficult–a little bit more tricky to navigate. All that said, it was also a great year. The relationships and experiences I shared with the people I did everyday life with were a huge part of that. I’ve come to realize that the important things in life are made up of a bunch of little moments. I’ve found that even when I wake up with bed head or when I leave my books and papers and socks all over the floor, I’m still someone’s roommate. These little moments culminate into two years of borrowing each others’ clothes and making tea and doing homework together. Two years of laughter and frustrations and small conversations that mean the world to our friendship.
Our talks late at night–due to the unfortunate cliff jumping of items from my bed–signify the best and the worst of times. I’m sure it is unpleasant and a little terrifying to wake up due to something falling on your head. But sometimes things fall on your head, and you have to make the best of it. That’s what living with my roommate has taught me. There’s good and there’s bad, but sometimes just having an awesome roommate to share it with makes all the difference in the world.
Meaghan McGann likes to write about silly people and silly things that happen in everyday life.