A box with the inscription "On the communal" had to be hoisted next to his workplace, maybe who will throw a penny

We all know that housing and utilities They get more expensive every day. If 5-7 years ago it was considered something shameful to live with parents after 25 or even after 20, now many thirty-year-olds do not disdain this. It's cheaper, Mom and Dad will always help. This has been practiced in China for a long time and no one complains.



On the one hand, we can agree. There are some advantages to living with parents. But again, what about your own family? It needs to be built in a separate room, actually. And constant dependence on parents, even if it does not give them much trouble, will not lead to anything good. Mentally, you can remain a little boy or girl in your 30s. I don't recommend it.

Housing and utilities I am a chick that flew out of the nest late. 29 years old, everyone understands, the age is not small. How did that happen? Well, I didn't run after guys or nightclubs. A perpetual student, and then a perpetual office worker. With a "cute" female collective. Then they leave at work tonight, then they throw errands home. In general, I had a hard time with men. My parents don't mind.



But recently, living with them has become very difficult for me. They didn't accept my growing up, even though it was my own fault. In the morning they will make tea, remind me that I need to wake up earlier, and so on. Sometimes you can go crazy with that attitude, really. So I decided to move. There was little money, but there was some savings. A month later, I officially entered adulthood.

The apartment is in a good area, even with renovations. I didn't even bargain with the owners and the realtor. So I liked her. But I didn't count one thing: communal. A month later, according to my calculations, taking away expenses on utilities and rent, I had about 400 rubles a day to live. This is along with buying clothes and going to cafes. Realizing this fact, I even kind of jokingly put a jar with the inscription “utility costs” in the office space. Why, you're gonna lose your humor.

Upon learning of my problem, a friend advised me to get a lodger. Just one in sight. Quiet, 10 years older than me, lonely. He is a fan of work, and he is almost never at home. What to do is just a neighborhood. If there's no screaming behind the wall or anything, why not?



We agreed to a very good price for me. He moved in with a laptop and not a very big bag of things. It was obvious that man did not need much. I thought I was okay. With the money, I had more opportunities. So I started doing what I was doing in the first place: dating.

But at my age, it turns out, dating is hard work. I want to know a person, see a friend in him or fall in love the first time. And most often, divorced and miserly uncles come. Mostly bald or fat. Of interest, football. I won't tell you the salary. Why the ring on your finger? I just keep it as a memory. Well, that's pretty clear.



Stasu, that was my neighbor's name, and I used to talk about the results of my dates. He didn’t listen much, but sometimes he gave some advice. He said the situation was stupid. I was wasting my time. Love, they say, must come by itself. You can't find her in a restaurant, except with a stranger. What does he even understand? Oh, men.

That's how it's been six months. I didn't find anyone serious, and I wasn't interested in a one-night stand. We became friends with Stas, some kind of friendship. Despite his age, he looked at the world in a very modern way. I taught him how to cook, and he taught me how to wash and clean my apartment. I told you they'd teach you a lot less.



And then he left. I had to deal with my parents in another town. I didn't say when I came, but I left the money. As he himself wrote to me in a message “so that I would not take anyone else to the apartment.” A couple of months later I couldn’t stand it and called him over the Internet. His voice was tired and he admitted to me that he would probably stay home. Work called. So my neighbor has officially disappeared, it was time to think.

I haven’t been looking for anyone for a while. There was money, but I wanted to live alone. Stas was not around, and I was not interested in men anymore. Well, maybe a little. In perspective. I got a cat and even went to the gym. I can’t say that I had any complexes about the appearance, but not much. And time to kill.

And then Stas came. Didn't call, didn't warn. We put a new lock on the door in the entrance, and he threw stones through the window for about an hour. Scared the cat. How happy I was when we met. I didn’t even want to be a snow queen. Stas is back. It turns out that if you're good at your job, your boss can make concessions. And he came to me.



We didn't even say anything to each other. It was clear. Everything, as they say, was in the air. If I am not mistaken, exactly 4 months later I solemnly took his name. The wedding was small but beautiful. All the guests are from my side. So, the former neighbors became the new unit of society. I know that I have not yet turned into an adult aunt who knows everything in the world in her 4th decade. But I think it's a good thing. Learning adulthood needs to be with someone. Then it becomes more rosy and interesting!