Anyone can tell you what a miraculous life upgrade it is to move out of campus housing, but at first, the hidden pitfalls can feel more like black holes. These four golden rules might save you the stress, shame and expenditures that come with the glory of off-campus territory.1. Don’t assume anything is in your kitchen.It’s exciting to have your own kitchen, but before any gastronomic undertakings, remember: You have nothing. If you don’t recall physically obtaining it, either by purchasing it or “borrowing” it from your friend World Market, it is not there. The gigantic list of things you don’t have includes a can opener, a sharp knife, a corkscrew, a spatula and remotely presentable flatware. If you’re like me, you tend to forget about the depressing barrenness of your drawers and cabinets until you’re already in the throes of cooking. I’ll save the story about the time I carved a whole chicken with plastic utensils for my next session of Culinary Confessional, but learn from my mistakes and take inventory first.2. Your building is your sexual conquest.Whether or not you know it, you have been divinely ordained to expand the horizons of your sex life to all areas of your building. However many neighboring apartments there are, you must hook up with their tenants as though their names compose your sexual bucket list. That means if you live in Evanston Place or student-dense areas like Ridge and Davis, shoot for the moon! The ability to limit your walk of shame to a flight of stairs-indoors-is a precious thing not to be overlooked. Some of you have about seven months left to create a radiant cocoon of awkwardness around your living quarters, so you’d better get whatever-ing.3. Pay your rent.Wagging my finger and telling you to pay your rent may seem insultingly elementary, but you’d be surprised how easy it is to mess up. Here’s a cautionary tale: Over the summer my roommates and I tried to coordinate rent payment while in different countries. One took a brave guess at what Korean postage costs and felt a false sense of accomplishment as her rent check slowly boomeranged across the planet back to her. Ten days later, we were hit with $1,000 in late fees. No, I am not kidding; rather I am weeping as I write this. I don’t even know what a thousand dollars looks like, and now I never will.4. Inter-roommate relations is a game of survival.When you run out of toilet paper, clean dishes, garbage bags and the like, theoretically it’s your responsibility to replenish them. But since everyone in the whole world agrees these are some of the dullest items you can spend money on, fortitude is key. This is a grand game of chicken; the point is to hold out until someone else caves. You know you’ve won when your roommate trudges through the door with fistfuls of swishing CVS bags and a grumpy look on her face just as you’re about to enjoy a sandwich plate-free (“freestyling,” as we off-campus folk like to call it). Ah, it feels so good to win.