Author's Note: To start off this series, I would just like to clarify that everything you are about to read has in fact occurred. As hard as it may be to believe, I promise you that this is a 100% true set of events. Enjoy my misery.
Her name was Ashley. Or at least that was the name written on the prescription medicine in the bathroom when I got back to my dorm room after a visit home for Thanksgiving last year. I had been living on residence for school for over a month already, and hadn't been assigned a roommate. The first thing that greeted me as I opened the door to my dorm for the first time upon returning was the stench of feet. You know that lovely aroma of dirty, sweaty, gym socks? Times that by an entire team of hockey players socks after a game that went into overtime. The smell was almost enough to knock me off my feet. I looked around my kitchen in horror, frantically thinking I had somehow walked into the wrong room. I was surrounded by items that weren't my own. Did someone break into my room and decide to leave me all these items as an early Christmas present? Because I wouldn't say no to a new blender! My mind did not want to register the possibility that I had finally been assigned a new roommate without any prior warning.
Unfortunately, that was the case. I had a roommate. Her name was Ashley, and her moving in with me was one of the worst things that ever could have happened. My once quiet, easy going, work oriented dorm life had been flipped upside down and soon turned into a never ending cycle of lack of sleep, cleaning, and often fearing for my own safety/ life.
Where I was attending university to . . . y'know . . . ATTEND UNIVERSITY by going to my classes, writing my essays, making my projects, studying for exams, Ashley was in it for a somewhat different experience. She was enrolled at a different university than I was (the residence building is close to both), and she decided to never attend any of her classes. Ever. Honestly, she rarely left our dorm which probably was the leading factor in the total destruction of our living space. Let's just say that doing dishes was not #1 on Ashley's priority list. My once clean dorm was transformed into a toxic wasteland with dishes growing mold and garbage on the floor piled waist high. I basically starved the entire time living with this girl because our kitchen was not fit for cooking. She had used up all of her dishes, all of MY dishes and would refuse to wash them. "Oh . .. yeah I don't do dishes. That's gross." she said to me one day when I confronted her about the mess. Yet she had no issue using the dishes. It would be impossible for me to even wash dishes because there was nowhere to put the clean ones. With the amount of school work I had due, I wouldn't be able to do a full clean of her mess every week and had to live with the mess for 3 weeks in between cleans. I would spend hours cleaning the mess and within seconds of her walking in the door, it would be back to being a total disaster.
To give you an idea of what I was living in, here's an image of our kitchen on a good day after about 2 days after I had cleaned.
Now, living with messy Ashley was hardly the only issue. I'll warn you right now that she was a little bit crazy and almost got me killed on a few occasions. But those stories are to come later. I just thought I'd give you a nice little introduction before I drag you into the craziness next week.