My New Home

So, just this evening I received word that the "Roommate Gods" really do love me. They were clearly just merely testing my sense of humor as of late. For my time of servitude in the absolutely pint-size "Big House" for the past year, they have released me on good behavior and actually have rewarded me with the best parole any inmate could receive. Not only do I now live on the most ADORABLE street I've ever seen - all joking aside: this street is the street my childhood fantasies of Italy were paved with - BUT I also have been given a reprieve. "From what," you ask? I have been given a reprieve from sharing. I now have - my very OWN room. I have actually been given a single bedroom in my apartment. I share the suite with six other girls, but I have been given my own room. Yes, I realize I have now said that phrase three times in the past three sentences, but as far as I'm concerned it's inflective repetition. I have to keep repeating it, because I barely believe it myself. I have my own room. I live on a street transposed from my fantasies. All in Italy. The "Roommate Gods" will be getting beyond their share of sacrifices of show pillows and dust ruffles. Without a doubt.