Last night my roommate and I were laughing hysterically together over a Dateline special about single people trying to find love. I guess it just happened to strike us as funny, even if it was a little sad. The thing is, it's not too often that my roommate and I have such fun together. Sometimes we just click and sometimes we just don't.

At times like that I start to miss my old roommate. Yes, she had severe manic-depression and that was hard to deal with at times, but she could also be a really good friend. She was endlessly patient with me and laid back about sharing anything of hers. If I wanted to sit up until 3am analyzing my life, she would sit up with me and listen. If I needed to escape (as I so often do these days), she and I would hop in the car and just drive. She always made me laugh so hard that I would forget whatever was bothering me for a little while and feel like I was escaping and not just attempting to. For example, I can remember one particularly humorous drive we took where we were singing that old name-game song but instead of using actual names of people, we were using names of venereal diseases. She never got tired of playing along with any crazy idea I happened to have. And I always knew that no matter how bad my problems were, hers would always be worse. That's really sad but it's true. Maybe I should give her a call sometime and see how she is.

Meanwhile, I long for the day when I am solvent enough to live in my own apartment and not need a roommate at all.   ¶ 4:50 PM