It is August, which means "Back To School" season is upon us! In lieu of all things "Back To School," I have been dwelling on the idea of dorm life. Since I have recently moved off-campus and into a fabulous apartment, I can't help feeling a little nostalgic when I see the dorm necessities section at Shop-ko or the posts about moving back to campus that are plastered all over social media.

As much as I am going to miss all of the fabulous benefits of on-campus housing, there is one thing I am positive I won't ever feel dorm-sick for: the showers. Or more importantly walking back to room 119 in squeaky shower shoes at 2 am only to meet the cute RA on their nightly 2 a.m. hall checks. Needless to say, I won't be feeling nostalgic for those awkward early morning squeaky run-ins. However, lucky for me, there truly is potential for poetry in every aspect of life. So thank-you, shower shoes for prompting me to write this poem, much love. (But, actually not really.)

Did you know it is literally impossible

to walk in wet shower shoes without them squeaking?

Or if there is a way

no one has ever made the concept clear to me.

Did you know it is strangely strenuous

to carry a load of a seemingly low weight

for a lengthy distance?

You start out with a cup of water

and end up with a gallon.

Did you know it is incredibly difficult

to read a book without becoming

one of the characters?

And then after you finish the book

you kind of wander around blind

trying to find a land where

fantasy and reality coexist.

Which reminds me:

Did you know it is absolutely hopeless

trying love someone without losing yourself?

Did you know it is astonishingly pretentious

winding your way back through

the mountainous trek of

fantasy and reality

in squeaky shower shoes

carrying a multiplying burden

just to catch a quick peek

of who you used to be.