I think, in a way, we all revert back to our childhood when in a new place. My first month of college is over, and we are a third of the way through the semester. I went through probably 16 easy macs, all my summer money, I have been reusing the same disposable coffee cup for about 2 days. People always hold the door for you. Everyone is sick all the time, and they call their mom to ask how to get rid of a sore throat. And you’re around people, a lot. Like, all the time. It can be quite exhausting, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong, I am a sucker for the aesthetic. A bunch of hopeful teenagers locked up together in sardine can-dorm rooms and one bathroom per floor, two people per room, and cliquey-athletes throwing parties down the hall. I think everyone's room collectively smells of burnt hair and mac and cheese. Oh, and I think the best part of college is watching hungover kids run around cleaning their dorm because Grammy is coming to visit.
I am a firm advocate of your M/W/F peeps not knowing you wore the same t-shirt to your T/TH’s. I have seen other colleges and seen my friend’s suites, (yes, they live in a room larger than a jail cell, it's intimidating, honestly), and they have a cafe bigger than the back of my hand, and they seem fine. Sometimes I just really want to ask someone when it's suppose to get better. It's the “best time of our lives”, and in a sense, I understand that. I am 18 years old, away from home. Sure, I live in a town with a collective amount of 20 people, but it's better than laying in the bed you did when you were 15 and really sad. I’m really not going to lie, I got stoned the other day and watched Orange is The New Black, and I felt a strong connection between Litchfield and Pierce. (Maybe its the beds, or the walls..something).
Another thing I noticed about college: people have really, really weird living habits. I am going to say this, and say it tentatively: I am terrified to piss my roommate off. It keeps me up at night. Am I breathing too loud? Was I in bed too early? Is she going to mind if I play really sad, angsty music? Is she going to judge me because I wore the same leggings three days last week? I have tried to convince myself this is mostly all in my head, and I know it is, but she totally low-key hates me and I’m okay with it. I mean, I never have a bra on and I’m always crying about Kurt Cobain’s untimely death or the five papers I have to submit.
I do try to remain hopeful, because I loans are set for the rest of the year and I think packing up my room again would take way too long. Classes can be pretty fun, and professor swear sometimes, so it's pretty cool.
