This past year and a half I have realized that I am the epitome of a "home body". I would much rather stay in with my dogs and Harry potter than out partying with people I feel totally uncomfortable with. I just like the familiarity of my house and the routine that I do every night. This is probably why I had struggled and dragged on moving out until the last minute. It was also one of the reasons I decided not to go to a big university where I would be forced to be surrounded by 30,000 students every day. Moving out of my parents house was probably the hardest thing I've done. And even though I hadn't been in my room for much longer than a year I felt such a connection to everything in it. I loved my bed, pictures, and every little nik nak I had in there. So packing up everything and knowing that I wouldn't be coming back to that same room on holidays or long weekends made it so much harder to pack up everything. Moving out also meant saying goodbye to my fri...