Renting your first off-campus apartment is like trying on a new pair of shoes; there are an abundance of factors that must be considered before buying.  Size, comfort, convenience, practicality, affordability; the list never ends. After months of persuasion, parents finally give in to your requests to live outside the comforts of the small, prison cell-like box SMU likes to call a dorm room. They agree that you have become much more independent and that it is time to experiment with the added responsibilities that come along with “owning” a home. However, just because you are independent, it does not mean that you are responsible. You are still a college student doing stupid college things.At first, the new living situation seems like a heavenly haven shared with three of the most perfect roommates you could ask for. There is little debate about sleeping arrangements, house rules or interior design. But nothing is ever as good as it seems.  During the first week there are a few hints of disagreement, but nothing earth-shattering. It is quite easy to overlook a dish left out on the counter, trash that needs to be taken out and constant reminders to lock the door.It is not until the first group grocery outing that sparks begin to fly and a swirl of everyone’s true colors starts to create chaos in aisle five. Many girls in this day and age have very interesting eating habits, which makes shopping to fulfill the needs of four hungry roommates nearly impossible.There is a fight about bread.  One prefers wheat, another white, no gluten please, low calorie only. The slight disagreement turns into an epic errand escapade:”Is bread a carb?””It makes you fat.””What about bagels?””Are you crazy?””My mom buys this kind.””Your mom can’t cook.””Neither can you.””I’m allergic to wheat.””Ew, gross: hydrogenated oil.””Who cares? Buy it all.” The other shoppers start to stare not because you’re cute, but because you’re insane. The older man browsing the chip selection further down thanks his wife for having sons. The only foods anyone can agree on are fruits and vegetables. The rest of the cart consists of fake butter, a collection of low calorie snack packs and a mountain of frozen meals. The long ride home is silent, as you start thinking of possible ways to evict the brats you live with.God forbid you spend an all-nighter in the stacks studying for a midterm, only to return home to discover that your humble abode has been transformed into a lofty landfill. One quick scan of the scenery and you notice that some jokester put her beer cans in the dishwasher, there are reruns of “Maury” playing on the television, a half-clothed frat boy is passed out on the floor with his shoes on, and there is leftover macaroni caked to the stove. Quickly you come to your senses and persuade yourself that your caffeine hangover is starting to kick in and that everything you see is just a mirage.When you finally get around to cleaning up the rubble from the party that occurred the previous night, it hits you mid-sweep. After hours of picking up red cups, wiping down the kitchen table-turned-pong table, chiseling crusty cheese off the burner, properly loading the dishwasher and reprimanding your reckless roommates, it all makes sense.Your parents never once believed that you could handle all the responsibilities of being a homeowner. They knew all along that once they cut the cord you would participate in even more absurd social activities than the year before. You were tricked: Your lovely living arrangement was Mom’s way of returning the favor for leaving out dirty dishes and laundry for her to clean over the years. The day the lease was signed, extreme excitement caused you to overlook the fine print that read: “Maybe now you’ll be more responsible.”Jordan Jennings is a sophomore journalism major. She can be reached for comment at [email protected].