If you live with roommates, you know the drill. There’s always something: the thermostat wars, the sink full of dishes, the stolen milk, and the unspoken resentment that builds like static electricity. I’ve been through three different shared apartments in five years. I’ve had the chaotic party house, the sterile “don’t touch anything” museum, and the passive-aggressive sticky-note hellscape.
However, the "love of 10" in our household also extends to a more whimsical interpretation of perfection. We have a running joke that everything in our apartment must strive for a "10 out of 10" rating, though we rarely achieve it. We celebrate the "10/10" moments: the rare morning when the bathroom is free exactly when you need it, the delivery driver who finds our confusing side door on the first try, or the perfect ripeness of an avocado that was hard as a rock just hours ago. By loving the "10," my roommates and I have created a culture of appreciation for the small, unlikely victories that make communal living not just bearable, but joyful. all my roommates love 10
Now? I love 10 too.”