Now, I’ve had the good, the bad and the ugly, when it has come to roommates. There was the perky and fun, pre-meetings and 12-step plans alcoholic Junior year of college. There was the overly stressed engineering major who would slam her physics book against the wall shared between our bedrooms at least once a week. And then there was the crazy one, the one that lied about having a miscarriage. Wait, which one? Yup, that’s right. I have now had not one, but TWO blessed crazy souls who have shared their tragic made-up miscarriages with me.
What are the odds of that happening?
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