Time for a change

This shot of the world's tiniest kitchen is actually the kitchen I have been cooking in for the past four months. It's "clean" at the moment. Normally, there's a stack of tomato-encrusted pots piling out of the sink and onion peels left on the very limited counter space. It's no surprise that about 3 weeks ago my roommate explained to me that we have "le blatte".
I had to Google Translate it. It means cockroaches.
When I first moved into my apartment, I was more than a little disappointed. When I finally decided on this place, I think I was blinded by the fantastic conversation I had with Elena, the nicest Italian roommate I could ask for. Little did I know at the time, Elena had a boyfriend and would be spending little to no time at our apartment the next semester. Instead, I was left with the three boys.
Peppe: 35, just graduated in cinema, and "looking" for a job.
Matteo: 25ish, swim-instructor, dropped out of the engineering program.
Zeppe: 28ish, awkward, never home, seriously involved in his new job as a journalist
Why in the world would I choose a house with people so obviously not on my same schedule?
I think it was honestly a miscommunication. I had no idea what I was looking for at the time nor did I even really know how to ask questions. I think I had assumed they were all students. Instead, I found the chain-smoking, sullen, couldn't-care-less-about-school anarchists (we actually have the anarchist flag hanging in our living room).
Deep down, I knew I had made a mistake. I started this year with such high expectations for the unique experience I would have living with Italians and I just couldn't admit to myself that I wasn't happy with it. Studying abroad is supposed to be a perfectly magical experience. You meet amazing people and learn knew things everyday. Maybe I was judging them too quickly and it really wasn't that bad.
But then could I really put up with a broken bathroom every other week and the thick layer of ash that was forming on all my things?
The concept of doing the whole search again was daunting. So I put up with it for four months hoping things would change. They didn't. In fact, I think the only things I say to my roommates now are "Ciao" and "Ti serve il bagno prima di faccio la doccia" (Do you need the bathroom before I take a shower?).
I finally made up my mind to start looking when my friend Kelly moved to a new place. It was her second move of the semester. The first time I went over to the new place I immediately felt how much happier she was in a real "home".
So, I made an appointment to see an apartment. The nice part of this story is that it wasn't a drawn out search like the beginning. I decided on the only place I saw after one night of thinking it over. I met all the roommates, they're all students, and the apartment is located on Via Zamboni, the main university street where all my classes are located. It wasn't a hard decision.
The hard part was awkwardly telling my roommates that I would not actually be staying until June. Unfortunately for them, they never made me sign any sort of contract or give them a security deposit.  (I was told I would have to do all those things so the fact that I didn't is just a sign of their laziness).
Now I'm just awkwardly living out the rest of my days in what has now become an uncomfortable limbo home. I can't move my things to the new place until Dec. 28th, and I don't feel at ease spending time with a bunch of Italians who know I don't like them.
Thankfully, I'll be starting the new year with a whole new set of roommates, and hopefully soon to be new friends.