I moved into my first apartment with my best friend if 10 years. I knew she was messy, and I knew a lot of her bad habits going into it, so I thought everything was going to be alright.
I was wrong.
My friend’s parents used to nag her to do stuff. Constantly. Without that nagging, she was a lazy slob….even by my standards, and I’m not the cleanest person in the world. I refused to do her chores for her, though. I wasn’t going to act like her mother.
We had a DISHWASHER, for goodness sake, but the dishes would stack up for months, getting moldy and stinky and rendering the sink unusable. My friend is a hoarder, too. I was lucky if I could see the floor or table/counter surfaces at all. The place was such a disgusting mess… And she had the nerve to get mad at me a couple of times for leaving a cup of out on the coffee table. When she herself left plates and food wrappers there, and I had to shove all that aside to even make room for my cup in the first place. Yeesh.
She didn’t clean up after her cats, either. She cleaned the overflowing, gnat-infested litterbox about once a month if that, so I was too embarrassed to have people over because the whole place smelled like cat shit. Her cats came down with respiratory infections that lasted for months, so they got huge wads of cat boogers all over the couches, the floor, clothes, everything. And she didn’t clean that up, of course.
At least she had held a job for five years and was reliable for paying the bills. Not. She got sick of her job and quit out of nowhere. Without telling me. With no backup plan. With no means to pay rent. I eventually heard about it through another friend. I used some connections and quickly hooked my best friend up with another job. That lasted a couple months, and then she got ‘bored’ and quit again. And then she got mad when I nagged her to borrow money from her parents. Soooorry I didn’t want to get evicted because of your moronic life choices.
Moral of the story: Best friends don’t always make the best roommates.