This is not a sappy open letter like I normally write about. This is just one of the funny stories of my life. If you know me, you know that a lot of weird things happen in my life that you might see on a television sitcom. This one is no different.

Last year, I went to a school 3 hours away from home. I had one roommate for less than a month and she had a service cat named Charlie. That's right: a service cat. My roommate had severe anxiety and depression. She was a returning student but ultimately transferred to a school near home to accommodate her needs.

For a month after she moved out, I was living in a dorm room by myself. I had not made any new friends that were willing to invite me out or would decline my invitations. There were times when I wouldn't leave my dorm room all weekend.

One day, a girl in my history class that I had become friends with was discussing her issues with her roommate. She then asks me whether or not I plan on living on campus the following year. I tell her I am unsure but bring up the idea of her moving into the empty room in my apartment style dorm. She agrees and moves in after Fall Break.

Around the end of the break, another student had tragically died. Being a larger school, emails were sent out year round about deaths involving the campus community.

I didn't think anything of it because I did not know the guy that had died. The Friday after the girl moves in I got a random phone call from the crisis hotline on campus. The woman that called me explained that my mother had asked her to call and check on me during this rough time.

I was super confused.

After the call ends, I call my mom and ask her about it. Unsurprisingly, she knows nothing about it. She's actually thought it was some sort of scam. She continued to tell me not to give my information away and all the thinks parents do when their kid might make mistakes. I brushed the phone call off without a second thought.

Until the following Monday.

I checked my email after my 8 AM (gross I know). I see an email from my psychology professor with a weird subject line: Loss of Roommate. I open the email to find my professor profusely apologizing to me for the loss of my roommate. He explains to me that I can take my time with upcoming work.

Okay, weird. My old roommate left a month and a half ago and my new roommate is fine so why are you sorry for a loss that I haven't had?

Then I thought, OH CRAP. What if something happened to my first roommate?!

I texted my old roommate and for more than 3 hours, I waited for a response. I grew more and more worried as the time passed. Finally, she responded and then everything was right in the world. Well, except for the fact that my psychology professor thought I had lost my roommate.

Turns out the email was sent to ALL of my professors. I decide to call the crisis hotline and explain the situation. Apparently there was a girl with a name very similar to my own that was close friends with the student that had died a week before.

The awkwardness of having to tell my professors that my roommate was in fact alive and well was inexplicable. I mean how do you tell your professor that your roommate isn't dead? Answer: there is no right way. The whole ordeal seemed like something you would read about or see in a sitcom. Nope, it actually happened to me.

Freshman year was memorable for a lot of reasons and this event was one of the key markers that made my freshman year of college so amazing. Granted, I felt awful that the girl with a name like mine was not getting the sympathy she deserved, it made for a great story. I hope she finally got an email from her professors that was saying they're sorry for her loss. I never knew her either so it just made the situation that much more awkward. But I guess the A in my name stands for Awkward instead of Anna.