The Lows of Dorm Life

THE LOWS OF

We all live in dorms. We hang Christmas lights and burn elicit candles and try to perform Pinterest miracles to make them into havens they were never intended to be. But try as we might, some things are just out of our control. We can refuse to ever use our fluorescent lights and buy the softest mattress pad in the world, but we can never completely forget where we are.

I bring you, the lowest lows of Dorm Life.

It’s midnight. I’m sick. My roommate’s sick. It’s irrelevant, but my mom is even sick. But you know who isn’t sick? The freshmen screaming in the bathroom directly across from my room. They are tireless and potentially nocturnal and they want everyone to know it.

It’s 3am and you knew you had three papers to write but Taylor Swift only produces artistic greatness like 1989 once in a lifetime and that means you have to dance. So now you’re sitting in the hallway surrounded by pillows and books and sadness and people step over your legs to get to the bathroom and you say sorry but you’re not sorry because you’re so angry.

You walk into the laundry room after accidentally leaving your clothes in there for 4 days like always and your clothes seem to have vanished entirely and you have to go get your roommate and your RA and finally you all find them behind a washing machine and you feel like there’s no one to blame but yourself.

It’s 9am on a Saturday and still no one seems to realize that the grassy area outside your window is your own personal courtyard and they always walk by EXACTLY when you’re changing and you have to hit the floor so no one sees you and that’s just a not great way to start your day.

You put a sign on the closet at the end of the hall that says “Prayer Closet” with full intentions to turn it into a prayer closet but you know the time is just never there and now it’s just a closet reserved for God but completely full of your stuff and now you have to live every day in fear of that metaphor.

When you and your roommate aren’t on the EXACT SAME sleep cycle and you either have to vacate room whenever she wants to sleep or tiptoe around like the spy you were definitely not created to be and wake her up and feel like an evil person for the next 12 hours.

Living with the reality that even thought I am 19 years old there is still someone that walks around once a week and charges me money if my room isn’t clean enough.

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