I was hoping to get along with my roommates

I made a lot of sacrifices when I entered school late in my early 20s.

Instead of placing me on campus in a dorm room with a younger student, the school insisted on having me live in a shared home instead.

The other occupants of the home were older students like myself. I had genuine hope in the start that we would all get along, that’s not how things transpired. At first you have something akin to a honeymoon phase living with another person where almost everyone is on their best behavior and are still trying to please the other person they’re living with. Then as time goes on, expectations from each get together begin to shift and evolve, and suddenly you’re no longer on the same page with this person who you’re sharing living quarters with on a biweekly basis with no end in sight. For me it was taxing trying to find people who were okay with my cannabis use despite my medical marijuana card in our state. I used ozone spray and an exhalation device with a carbon filter while pointing it out and opening the window. I know there’s no way that my roommates were away from me smoking weed, occasionally I’d get snide remarks the next day or ongoing cold shoulders and passive aggression surrounding my responsible cannabis consumption. Would these people rather live with a drunk? I can’t get over the people who are addicts themselves and then they go and demonize those of us who just want a legal right to shop in a cannabis dispensary without getting robbed or arrested. We have a long way to go at the federal level, but at least we’re moving in the right direction.

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