7.1 Part One: Roomies and Monetary Woes

   I stood at my mailbox, checking my mail. I sighed as I picked up bill after bill. Who knew adults had to pay for so much? There was water and electric and trash pickup. If I wanted water, I had to pay a bill. Internet and cable and cell phone. You will not believe how much your grocery bill is when you only purchase things labeled organic. Organic tissues and bread and pumpkin seeds and tofu and dish soap and cheese. All my furniture I purchased wasn't made with any wood that people had to destroy someone's habitat to get, or animals furs and skins. I only purchased clothing that was made in the USA and ensured that only ethical labor was supported. Don't even get my started on the cost of my tea addiction from the coffee shop. Point blank: bills were piling up and frankly, my crummy income I earned from working nine to two at the science center wouldn't be enough to cover my monthly expenses.

   I grew the majority of my produce, but it took awhile for plants to be ready to harvest. I hope one day organic won't be synonymous with expensive. All people need food to survive; it's a basic necessity. We shouldn't be charging extra  if you want the healthiest version. I sighed as I walked to my front door. I shouldn't be surprised that I was running low on funds. My income  wasn't disposable, but when I was buying my  property and furniture I treated it like it was.

   I stepped inside my home, wiping my sandals off on the doormat. I hadn't bought a broom or dustpan or mop yet and I was hoping that if I was careful enough I wouldn't have to. With my luck, I'll end up catching something that's incredibly rare you can only get from spending every minute you're not sleeping or working in your garden and not owning a mop. I'll then have  to splurge on doctor's bills and medication. Maybe I should hire an accountant or someone to deal with my monetary woes. I would, if it wasn't for the fact that accountants cost money and I happen to be living with only little less than a thousand dollars in my bank account.
   I threw the thick stack of mail onto the coffee table. I hadn't had anything other than an apple and a granola bar today and was feeling a tad peckish. Peckish. What a humorous word. I should cook something. Maybe harvest some onion, lettuce, tomato an- I glanced at my herb plant It was wilting! How long had it been since I watered it? Since the poor thing was inside, the sprinklers that I had set to water my outdoorsy plants every morning didn't apply to it. I rushed to the kitchen to grab my watering can that I had left a quarter full on the stove.

  "I'm sorry." I whispered to it, as I water the plant. It wasn't like the thing would reply to me, but I still felt better knowing that if it could hear and did have feelings it would know that I didn't mean to abuse it. 
   The watering can was set on the floor next to the plant, as I turned to face the window. Wildflowers and butterflies, bees and roses. My garden was alive with flora and fauna. I sat down in the armchair, taking a minute to relax. I didn't take a moment to sit and think nearly as often as I should. I wish I could travel to the gardening expo in Maryland. Buy some rare, legal, organic seeds. Too bad I couldn't afford it. My thoughts went from gardening to money to the bills I needed to pay. How was I going to fix this? There was always AJ... but it hadn't been ten years. Only ten months since we broke up. I lived with her for awhile and my finances were fine. I gasped. That's the solution! Not AJ, but a roommate. Someone to split the bills with. Someone who was better at math than me. Some to sleep in the spare bedroom.

  I pulled out my phone and went to the local newspaper page to create and ad. Something simple. Something eye catching. Something better than this:

 ROOMMATE NEEDED!

Female in her twenties needs someone to split expenses with.

Three bedroom, three bathroom home.

Contact by calling 000-0000 or leaving reply.

  Which was the ad I posted on the site. Instantly, there where a few replies. I scrolled through them. A majority of them were spam or unpleasant descriptions of what I could do with someone's something if they moved in with me. There was one serious reply. Someone who claimed to be in her twenties as well and was also looking for a roommate. She/Weirdo posing as a she and offered to meet me at the coffee house. Safe spot. Lots of people. Why not? I was following all those cyber safety rules they told you in school. I agreed; I needed a roomie and couldn't be picky. 

   I quickly grabbed my pepper spray and began walking to the coffee shop. The bus only stopped by the stop nearest to my home at eight thirty in the morning, noon, and four, so I had to walk the majority of the places I wanted to go. After ten minutes of walking, I reached the coffee shop. I hurried up the stairs to the loft area, which was meant for people who wanted to read or play chess or do plug in their laptops. A rosy cheeked red haired girl was sitting.

   "Hey," She said once she noticed me. "Are you looking for the girl who wants to be your roommate?"
   "Yeah." I smiled, nodding.
   "Cool. I'm Rosie. I left that reply."
   "Great, I'm Hazel Janes." I said, as I took the seat next to her. "I'm going to ask you a few questions." I said, unsure of what formalities I was skipping.
    "Okay." She nodded.

    "Do you have a job or source of income?"
    "No." She blushed. "I'm currently job searching."
    "How are you planning on paying bills?" I liked Rosie. She seemed like a sweet lady who wouldn't murder me in my sleep. Looks can be deceiving, but I was fairly certain she was just a 
    "Well... I make wine. See, I need to live some place with a basement. Right now I'm doing freelance cleaning and small jobs. I have enough to pay bills. I'm saving to go to France. I lived in the crappy part of town and my wine making stuff was damaged. I currently don't have any, but I'll need a couple thousand dollars to jet off to France... I figured that I should move someplace where a two thousand dollar wine maker thingie wouldn't be destroyed by a drunk neighbor with a  BB gun."
   "I have a basement."
   "Is it used to store dead bodies?" She asked, jokingly.
   "No... See, murder is generally frowned upon by society."
   "Yeah, I guess it is." She shrugged. "I figured I might as well check. My mother always told me that when you meet a stranger off the internet  and are planning on moving in with them, always check to make sure they aren't a serial killer."

   "Seriously?" I chuckled. I was loving her sense of humor. It was odd, I'd admit that, but it was still humorous to me.
   "Are you kidding? My mother was uptight and couldn't say sick, dead, abandoned, or failure without bursting into tears. I love her, but she was a tad... off."
   "Nicely put." Off was a good way to phrase something without going into too much detail. You were aware someone was crazy or not right, but you didn't know how. "Next question, are you in a relationship or have any friends that would be frequent visitors?"
    "I am in a relationship," Dammit. I was developing a little crush on my interviewee who happened to be dating someone. I assume that that someone was also probably a guy. "But I doubt that they'll visit often. I tend to go to their house."
    "So, um, next question. If you're in a relationship why are you looking for a roommate?" I was curious. Generally couples let the other one move in if they needed a place to live.
    "Isn't that a tad personal?" I blushed. It was wrong of me to ask the adorably cute and funny chick I just met at the coffee shop why she wasn't moving in with her boyfriend, I just didn't care enough to avoid asking her. "Lucky for you, I'm probably going to end up living with ya for a teeny bit and you'll find out that I'm dating a giant prude. Well, prude sounds bad, plus we kiss and stuff. But moving in before marriage and home runs, if you know what I mean, are off the plate. Hence the moving in with a stranger thing."
   "You seem really confident that you're moving in with me." 
   "Yeah, I've been looking for a roomie for a month and so far everyone online has been a creep. I felt like I should be optimistic about this. I'm not coming off as vain or anything, am I? Sorry... see I-"
   "Trust me, you're fine. In fact how's Friday?"
   "Friday?"
   "To tour my house. If you like, then I figured we become roommates?"
   "Sure, sure. I figured there's be more questions, but sure. Friday. Yay! Roommate."

   "Hopefully."  Rosie Kinnely began clapping her hands as a smile spread from ear to ear. I had found myself a roommate.