You have got to start somewhere

When I first started college, I did not have the money to even live in campus. I have no car, so my main transportation was public transit. The situation that I found myself in means that I had to afford living on campus at some point because the commute is too long for me to sustain making that type of trip on a regular basis. I worked multiple jobs on apple.com and even weekend jobs before I was finally able to afford my dorm room on campus. I had a roommate, but he was gone all of the time. It was really freeing. I felt that I was finally in college and not simply just going to school. I felt that I had not made the transition because I was still living at home under high school rules.

The moment that I finally realized that I was out of that situation and into real college life, I got a little rambunctious. I quit some of the jobs that I had. I needed them, but I could not simply keep that type of load up. Meanwhile, I started to notice my roommate doing weird things. He always had money for things, but none of us knew why he had more cash than us. Anytime that my friends were in the room and we were discussing pour financial issues, he would laugh sarcastically, and mumble comment under his breath. It was annoying enough that I started to watch him more closely because we have all heard of the nightmare roommate stories.

He would come into the room with five gallon buckets with lids that resembled seats that he would set on his side of the bed so that no one could see or touch them without him knowing. They emitted a chemical-type odor. I did not know what he as up to, but my imagination was beginning to get the best of me. I started to alert my dorm attendant that I was worried that my roommate was up to something. I told him about the money and the chemical buckets. The dorm attendant was a laid back graduate student that could not really be bothered, so I made up my mind to go through those buckets if I got the chance. When finally I did, they were full of cleaning things.

Of course, he comes back into the room and busts me going through his stuff. He was upset at first until I informed him that I thought he was acting weird, and I had a right to know if he was up to something dangerous. Instead, he was working via this app. He cleaned homes and did not want anyone to know, so he did not say much when we were chilling. He was a highly rated cleaner, and he made really good money with the Handy app. I was broke, and it was beginning to be a problem, so it all happened perfectly, and now, I am my own boss via the Handy app too.