A while back I talked about the trials an tribulations of living with randomly selected roommates . I'm preparing to move out of this apartment that I've been in for the last three years, and just as the finish line is in sight, there's a new war being waged and this time it's over the thermostat. He who controls the thermostat controls everything. I make sure to assert my alpha dominance nice, cool, and Rob Gronkowski-approved 69 degrees. The perfect indoor temperature. The reason for that is if your cold, put on a goddamn sweatshirt or get under a blanket. It's much easier to warm up than it is to cool off. Plus, I live in Florida, so if you're cold go sit outside. I have an uncanny ability to recognize slight temperature differences inside. If I was one of the Avengers, it would be my super power. Sure, it's not a great one, but neither is being good at archery. *cough* Hawkeye *cough* When I feel the temperature rise ever so slightly my Spi...

I live in an apartment and I’ve got some roommates. We were put in an apartment at random so we didn’t know each other when we moved in, and that’s about as well as I know them now. We don’t talk to each other. It’s not like the silent treatment, we just don’t speak to each other aside from a greeting. Here’s what our conversations are like: “Sup dude…Well see you later.” Nothing. To  give you an idea of how little I know my roommates, I had some family coming to visit me and I was legitimately concerned that I’d be forced to introduce people and wouldn’t know my roommate's names. I was quizzing myself beforehand. I couldn’t remember the one dude’s name so I ended up digging through my emails trying to find what his name was. It’s good that I did though, because I had every intention of calling him Josh, and it turns out that’s not his name. I’m not a fan of having roommates. By no means am I some sort of neat freak, but I still like things clean, which means...