Ladies and gentlemen, it's Uni time. And for those taking on your next adventure with student life, chances are you are going to end up in a uni sharehouse situation. Just like the rest of us schmucks struggling to make ends meet, while we study for our dream career.
Or really, any career that would have you. Or the subject your parents are forcing you to study until you get up the guts to tell them instead of becoming a doctor like your father, and your father’s father, and his father, your heart is telling you 'wild goat hurdler in Iceland'.
Either way, you’re here and about to head on this magical adventure. These are all the stages of first moving into your uni sharehouse.
Ohmygod. You’re are all going to be the three best friends that ever were. Cue the hangover song 'We're the three best friends that anyone could have. And we'll never ever ever ever leave each other. We're the three best friends that anyone could have.'
Like the relationship honeymoon period, you're all infatuated with your new best friends and everything is wonderful. You cook meals for each other, have constant sleepovers in the lounge room, and start every morning with a prayer or a group yoga session.
Your future holidays will be spent between each other’s parent’s houses until you leave uni and are rich enough to travel together overseas. They'll be in the bridal or groom party at your wedding and your eventual kids will call them auntie or uncle. Ya'll tight AF. #goals.
The housewarming party will happen at this stage, and despite the fact, Susan can’t handle her booze and cried over her cat that died 7 years ago, and Robert seems to have a weird obsession with left toes, everything went pretty well.
In any living arrangement or relationship, conflict is unavoidable at some point. Even though things have come along quite swimmingly at this time, there’s bound to be something that’s going to upset the synergy of the household.
Whether that’s because David doesn’t like putting on clothes anymore or, Debra, the whitest person you know without a musical bone in her body, has decided to become a rap star and practises at 3am while sounding like a dying cat, something needs to change for both your eyes and ears to stop burning.
These disagreements are generally solved by leaving passive aggressive notes for each other around the household, whilst simultaneously avoiding speaking to each other face-to-face. Continue the cycle until you forgot what you were pissed off about in the first place.
Ok so cool, you held your tongue when Kathryn took to only eating foods that are coloured red. You said nothing when Mark stole your underwear and made a scavenger hunt out of them for shits and giggles.
You even held your tongue when Jessica became full vegan hippie, stopped showering and literally staged a protest of covering herself in ketchup and crying like the animal you were about to eat, every time you cooked meat.
But when Todd announced that he’s a Trump Supporter and Kath casually dropped a truth bomb she doesn’t like dogs, this was total fuckery. Who are these barbarians? How can you live under these conditions?
The ticking time bomb. It’s a combination of being irritable due to lack of sleep, not having your mum there to make you soup and cuddle you, oh and the fact that someone is grinding your gears so hard your last Google search was 'how to get away with murder'. Shit’s about to get real, you guys.
Sides are chosen. The house becomes a war zone. Household items are sacrificed. You bring your best psychological war tactics by replacing every photo of their family in their room with baby photos of you and changing all their mobile tones to Nickleback songs.
They got real nasty and replaced your shampoo and conditioner with red hair dye. They knew for a fact red clashes with your skin tone. Alright, Hitler, calm down! That’s taking things way-way too far.
A household meeting is called. Attempts at compromise and mediation from the other housemates don't go to plan as you're all as stubborn as a mule and refuse to corporate.
There are no options left and someone’s got to go. You brought the fridge and the fridge homes the beer, so it trumps their washing machine every time (I mean you can always wash your clothes in the shower anyway) so off they go. Bye Felicia.
Then you need someone to take their room. Your new flatmate moves in and the cycle starts again. You are the three best friends that ever were….etc etc.
Damn Gina. That was only the first week. Imagine what the rest of the year will be like.