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Our parents existed in the generation that didn’t move in together before marriage. But they also had blind dates instead of Bumble, dance cards instead of ghosting, and feet instead of Uber. If there’s one thing our generation does better than the one that raised us, it’s do things reckless and fast.
Like move in together.
Per Forbes’s 9 Things Millennials Should Consider Before Moving In Together, these are the realistic things you need to take into consideration when the shit hits the fan.
1. Discuss the reasons for moving in together.
Between saving gas and/or on public transportation going back and forth to each other’s places, you also get the luxury of throwing out all the old furniture you inherited from either your college house or your parents’ warehouse that’s overridden with possible black mold. Add in the fact that you’re now splitting rent with someone you like rather than someone you resent for every dirty dish they leave out and all of the sudden the only thing you have to worry about is how and when you’re ever going to–
…actually, never mind.
2. Understand each other’s expectations.
My expectations of a live-in girlfriend range from but are not limited to: being accepting of my washed-once-a-month sheets, not scoffing at my washed-once-a-month set of towels, and an agreement that my clothes will largely exist outside of my dresser rather than inside.
As for me? I know there are going to be a million pillows I have to take off the bed every night before I got to sleep. I’m aware that Friends reruns are going to replace the white noise of SportCenter. And yes, I guess I’ll clean my beard trimmings out of the sink if they’re really that gross to you. Just let me know when you use my deodorant so I don’t run out one fateful day and feel myself pitting out at my desk wishing I was single.
3. Talk finances.
I’m poor. What next?
Okay, okay, fine. Let’s have “the talk.” We’re splitting rent evenly even tough my closet space, half of the bed, and pretty much everything else is going to be completely compromised by the addition of you. There are going to be days when I attempt to eat all my meals for less than $5 so I can flex my cash a little further on weekends, and I’m not opposed to attempting to steal wifi from the neighbors for the first month to see if it works. Other than that, yeah, I’m still poor.
4. Determine how you’ll split the household expenses.
Ughhhh, can’t you just handle it and send me a Venmo receipt every month? Yeah, I’ll walk around with a chip on my shoulder for couple of days because you didn’t forget (again), but what’s a relationship if you don’t hate the other person once a month?
5. Agree on the right location.
I’m no Magellan, but I know the Bermuda triangle I’m going to need our place to be in, and that triangle is going to involve my place of work, a staple bar, and a market with gourmet to-go foods for the five days a week I’m too lazy to cook dinner. You know, just the type of place that tosses some dill in their chicken salad and uses bread that’s less than two days old. High class shit.
Other than that, if you need it near your spin studio, I’m all ears. Just as long as the walk to said bar is shorter than your walk to said spin studio. I’m not trying to sweat with my deodorantless pits on the barstool while you listen to Chainsmokers remixes of Lil Wayne songs.
6. Prepare for the good, the bad and the ugly.
My good: My scented candle game is airtight and I keep things tidy. I wake up early, go to bed even earlier, and I don’t like to talk after 9 p.m.
My bad: We run the risk of burning our place down with the scented candle I drunkenly light after a bottle of red, I press snooze for hours on end, I can’t fall asleep without the television on, and I don’t like to talk after 9 p.m.
My ugly: I’m definitely not going to clean my beard trimmings off the sink as previously mentioned. Can’t we just get a once-every-two-weeks cleaning lady to do that for us?
7. Create a “breakup plan.”
Uhhhh. Ummmm. Hmmmmm. So… yeah. Okay, sure, let’s skip this one because my breakup plan has nothing to do with moving out and everything to do with finishing a bottle of whiskey a day while re-downloading dating apps as I take a two-week leave of absence from my job.
8. Divvy up the household responsibilities.
This says to “divvy them up” but let’s just do what we both know will happen and operate on the “tell me what to do and I’ll get around to it later” plan. Like, sure, I can say I’m going to do the dishes if you cook the meals, but chances are I’m going to let them linger in the sink until you get fed up and do them while I scroll Instagram on the couch.
9. Make the move – with the mindset of working together.
You and I both know that our new place is your world and I’m just living in it. Now which side of the bed do these throw pillows go on again?
Image via YouTube