Look around. That's right. Wherever you are right now: home, the library, class, etc. It all likely looks normal to you. After all, you are living your everyday life. Why should you bother giving more than a second's thought to your current setting? Now, look at it again. If someone else were to live in your life for a day, what would they find odd?

Recently, I decided to take this approach when observing those in my everyday life on a college campus. Within the past couple months, this setting has become almost invisible to me as I block out the unordinary and focus on more trivial matters - you know, like the massive project I have to turn in by Wednesday. In fact, most college students seem to have blocked out their surroundings, as I have witnessed first-hand, and chosen to live as though no one else is paying attention.

To their misfortune, I am. Even better, I have observations to share.

Let's start with a basic life function: sleeping. At any given time of the day, there is always a college kid sleeping. This likely comes to no surprise. With such a wide range of class times, it is not uncommon for students to take a daily trip back to their dorm rooms for a quick nap between lectures. As I have recently discovered, it is also not uncommon for these naps to happen outside of the dorms.

Ladies and gentlemen, public napping is a thing, and it is happening now.

From hammocks to the library to dining halls to the edge of the new fountain in the quad, napping can take place anywhere. On the first day of classes this semester, I encountered someone sleeping in the library. It was noon. And the first day. I don't know what class she went to that morning, but I am certain I never want to be a part of it.

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Sleeping is not the only private task students complete in public settings. Everyone has been in a situation where a person in the same waiting room, airport terminal, or aisle at the grocery store is on one end of an extremely loud and awkward phone call. I now encounter this at least twice a week while waiting for a class to start.

The phone call itself is not the problem. After all, many students are living on their own for the first time in their lives, so a spur-of-the-moment call home is expected. What is often not expected is for the conversation to take place at the loudest volume possible while in the hallway of an academic building. These public phone calls have allowed me to know more about strangers' personal lives than I care to know. I know who is having problems in a relationship, who is thinking of changing majors, who is having trouble returning a package from an online shopping spree, and who is tired of so-and-so doing who-knows-what. Have you ever seen someone get dumped over the phone? I have. Twice. In the past two months.

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These phone calls do serve to keep up the average college kid's social skills though. After all, most greetings seem to be done without words as people nod in acknowledgment while passing each other on the way to class, do that bro-hug move (which I refuse to even attempt,) or ignore everyone altogether by popping in earbuds and staring at the ground with a look that I assume to mean their pet goldfish just bit the dust.

In class, social interaction is even worse. We all stare at our phones, pretending to catch up with Instagram or text a friend back about an important topic, even though you and I both know you are just pretending to be busy with your social life so you can avoid making eye contact with the guy who has sat next to you in class for two months whose name you forgot and by now it is far too late to ask.

Those with skateboards or bikes have complete other sets of social interactions. For those who are unaware, the average college campus has more bikes and skateboards than an X-Games event. Some students even have it in their minds they are at the same skill level as Tony Hawk, as I noted when one student decided to ride his bike down a flight of stairs one morning. In his defense, he stuck the landing.

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These riders likely have the most subtle forms of communication of all those on campus, ringing a bell on their handlebars to alert pedestrians they are coming through (as if we are dogs who should respond to the high-pitched ding,) or maybe just letting everyone know they are here through the simple sound of skateboard wheels on the pavement. Even so, these sounds put more fear and stress into my life than when I hear my mom's car pull into the driveway and I have yet to do any of the chores she asked me to do.

Bikers skirt through whoever is in their way, squeezing through crowds of people like the Knight Bus. I mean, can you blame them? Why should they have to use the bike lane when there is a perfectly functioning sidewalk right next to it? Skateboarders are an entirely different breed. They move wherever they want whenever they want. They will ride your heels and take off your baby toe while speeding down a hill. They are the Regina George of campus.

They rule this school.

All of this and more passes me by on a daily basis. Sometimes I give it a second thought, but most times I do not. So, go ahead. Look around. Your experiences are unique and there is so much more to enjoy once you acknowledge it.