This weekend coming weekend will mark the 3rd week of living in my dorm. It’s been a fun experience.
You’ve got to swipe your ID to open the door to get in from outside. Then pretend to show the security guard your I.D. while the security guard pretends to look at it. Then you swipe again to open another door. After that door you then again need to swipe to get into your floor. Swipe-ity. Swipe. Swipe. Swipe.
Let’s just say the security is a little tight. The R.A.’s explain why the security is necessary by telling a terrifying story about a man sneaking into the dorms that sounded like it was straight out of a Stephen King book.
Then they’re like “Okay now get a good nights rest.” By “good nights rest” they must mean springing up out of bed after every noise that travels through the 45 doors that you’ve swiped your way through.
About a month before moving here I made the choice to request that I have a lofted bed thinking the extra space will be nice.
I figured it wouldn’t hurt. Wrong. It hurt.
When I arrived I was thinking, “Oh the loft will be all set, I’ll just need to put on my bedding.” Wrong again.
The metal pieces of the loft were just thrown on the ground in the middle of my room. Next to the pieces were instructions on how to build the loft. Of course the instructions were in a foreign language that I don’t currently speak.
I’m sure I could have paid extra for a translator but I figured I could build the loft without the instructions. Wrong again.
Before getting here, they said that no tools were needed to build the loft. They were also very wrong considering the metal pieces basically had to be welded so they’d fit together properly.
After an hour of smashing pieces together we learn, oh we’ve got the bed lofted so high that I need to army crawl into bed in order to avoid banging my head. Whoopsy Daisies, now we’ve got to un-smash all the pieces and then re-bang them back together.
Finally my bed is at the best height possible and I haven’t had very many problems with it since.
But now it’s time for me to wash my bed sheets. The Laundry Room is probably the most frustrating room in University Hall. I believe there are about 330 people living in this dorm and there are 8 washing machines. When 8 washing machines are being shared with 330 people each individual gets about .02 of a washing machine. How luxurious. This must be how 4 girls feel about sharing 1 bathroom.
Finally my clothes were done in the washing machine. I needed to put them in a dryer but no dryers were open. So I spent 20 minutes standing there, bear hugging a month’s worth of wet clothes awkwardly waiting for a dryer to open up.
I’d also like to add that my TV gets less channels than there is washing machines. It’s Sunday afternoon of course I don’t get the channel the Bear’s game is on so I’m sitting here wearing a Cutler jersey watching Toddler’s in Tiaras. Do I get ESPN? No. Do I get FOX? No. Do I get TLC? Yes. Do I want to go get hit by a car? Yes.