Sophomore housing week at BC is arguably the most stressful week I have ever experienced. Tears were shed, arguments were had, and little to no homework was completed. My eight man group went into eight man pick day assuming we would get a pick time, since literally half of the freshmen class gets pick times for eight mans. We live on Newton now, so there was no way we would get the short end of the stick again, right?
Wrong. I was devastated when I got the email that my group wasn’t selected for an eight man pick time (even my bank account suffered thanks to J.Crew online-retail therapy was much needed). I immediately texted the group chat and said we needed to figure out plans for quads. We needed to decide how to split up and what building we wanted (Walsh or 2000). We all went into four man day assuming we would get a pick time since we didn’t get one the previous day. Although there were arguments on which building would be best, we finally figured out our plan.
I was in Mac when we found out we didn’t get a pick time and needless to say tears were shed. We only had one more chance to make our dreams of decorating a suite and throwing decent pre-games a reality. Almost immediately after getting the email, we began our hunt for finding a ninth girl. We had all heard rumors that if you can get nine people, you will likely get a pick time since most people go for 6 mans. We didn’t find a ninth girl until later that night, and when we did, we were all literally jumping for joy. In the Hunger Games-esque week, we had done what we thought was impossible: found someone else that would want to live with us.
We were all so convinced that we would get a pick time and that the fates would be with us. Sitting in Mac waiting for the email on Wednesday was easily the most nerve-wracking experience of my entire life. We kept refreshing my email for around 45 minutes, nervously scrolling through Instagram to momentarily get our minds off of it. When the email came, I have never seen my friends so devastated. I had to put my head down so no one would see the tears. We heard distant shouts of joy from the other end of Mac (I hope you enjoy your nine man) and angrily slammed our chairs into the tables and started yelling about how we were going to transfer as we walked outside. We would be living the BC housing nightmare: going from Newton to CoRo. All of our dreams of having a common room and not having to use shower shoes went out the window.
At this point, we thought it couldn’t get any worse. That is, until I went on the portal on Thursday to check our pick time. We knew a lot of people that were in the same position as us, so we all planned on living on the same floor. Until I found out our pick time was at 8:05.
I threw my phone on the table at Eagles and couldn’t even speak. More tears were shed as we realized we would likely be living in the BC housing myth: Greycliff. Luck of the Irish right? Our group chat’s name changed to 8:05 and at that point we had accepted our Greycliff fate. We were praying for CoRo at this point, let’s put it that way. When I logged onto the portal at our time, I saw that there were eight beds left in Williams, on the same floor. I guess this was the luck we had waited for all week. Everyone was nervously and excitedly screaming at me to get the last four rooms and I have never been so stressed. At the end of the day, having a suite and living on Lower would have been ideal, but at least we will all be together. Kappa Kappa CoRo let’s go! While housing week is stressful, it’s not worth it to lose friends over an (incredibly unfair) housing process. You will know people that live on Lower, and at least your room won’t get trashed since very few people will visit you on CoRo.
And to my friends that live in suites on Lower, I am putting a toothbrush and a pair of pajamas in your room and moving in on the weekends. In return, you can nap in my bed in between classes.
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