I deserve a little more...

I spent the early months of 1995 wallowing in self-pity and depression.  My perfect boyfriend dumped me.  My roommate of three years couldn't stand to be around my mopey self and moved out.  I was failing everything. 

I was alone in my dorm room for about three weeks.  Literally.  I didn't go to class, I ordered pizzas, when I bothered to eat at all.  I was either sleeping or listening to music and chatting with people on the Internet.

My best friend would stop by everyday when he was on campus and tell me I needed to move in with him.  He and his boyfriend were moving into a two bedroom apartment in Spokane, and they needed a roommate, but they didn't want just any roommate.  I kept saying no.  I didn't even want to leave my room, let alone move out of it. 

I was going to apply for a single room, because I couldn't imagine sharing that tiny room with a stranger.  If my roommate, who had put up with me for three years, couldn't stand to be around me anymore, how could they expect someone else to?

I never got around to turning in that application.  One day, the Resident Advisor on my floor knocked on the door and introduced me to my new roommate, a tiny Japanese exchange student with bright eyes and a friendly smile.  I was horrified. 

She stepped into the room and looked around for somewhere to set her suitcase, and I frantically started moving old pizza boxes, empty clothes, empty cigarette packs, and miscellaneous trash around.  I was angry at the stupid student housing people, because a little bit of notice would have been nice.  Worse, I was humiliated, down to my bones, because I saw myself and what I had become through this girl's eyes. 

Finally, I cleared out her side of the room, and she sat down on her bed, and tried to get acquainted with me.  I smiled and tried to make small talk for a few minutes, and then another exchange student knocked on the door and she left with him, speaking Japanese. 

I turned my stereo back up, and "Rain King" was playing.  I'd heard the song a million times, but in that moment, something about the way Adam Duritz wailed "I deserve a little more" energized me. This whole mess I was in had been triggered by a stupid boy.  Since when was I the kind of girl who moped for months over a boy?  I could get another one anytime I wanted to.  Was that boy who dumped me all that perfect, really?  Of course not.   

I started cleaning up, and after about twenty trips to the dumpster, I called my best friend in Spokane and asked him if he still wanted a roommate.