My Love-Hate Relationship with the Cold Dorm

My Love-Hate Relationship with the Cold Dorm

 

When I joined a sorority, there were very few things I was worried about. Hazing? Nah. Judgey, cliquey girls? Absolutely not. Being seen as annoying by the rest of campus? Ok, maybe that one. But my biggest concern? THE DREADED COLD DORM.

 

 

If you’re a part of a sorority or have friends that are in one, you might’ve heard of it. It’s basically a big ol’ room full of bunk beds, kept dark, quiet, and (usually) cold twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Sounds cool, right? Some people would say so. Others might not.

 

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m someone who has a strong attachment to her bed. My first year of college, I spent more time than I’m proud of just sitting in bed, sometimes doing homework, sometimes watching movies, and (let’s be real) most of the time...sleeping. When I first learned I might have to give up the comfort of being able to snuggle under the covers while working on a ten page essay, I shivered. I cringed. I might’ve even shed a tear. I was terrified.

 

Besides the obvious separation anxiety I knew I might experience, I had heard horror stories of people who had hated the cold dorm. Among other things, I was warned of the sleep-talkers, the snorers, the girls who would stay up snapchatting until the wee hours of the morning. But here’s the thing: I’ve been in the cold dorm for about three and a half weeks now. And I don’t hate it. But I still sort of do. Ok, I’ll explain.

 

So first, I’m getting the best sleep of my life. Truly, honestly. I feel like a baby. It takes me less than 5 minutes to fall asleep every night, purely due to the darkness, the silence, the total lack of stimulation. Here’s the problem with that, though: I’m addicted to it. I come back from an hour and a half long class, declare I’m “exhausted” and immediately sprint up the stairs to hop into bed for what inevitably becomes a two hour nap. For obvious reasons, this is problematic. I’ve had to start penciling in hours at a time solely to feed my nap obsession. It has to stop.

 

 

Another thing I love about the cold dorm is that you can be on your own sleep schedule. Wanna go to bed at seven o’clock in the evening? Cool. How about four in the morning after you’ve been cramming for that exam? Sounds good, sis. Nobody cares! You don’t have to ask your roommate if they’re done with homework before you turn off the lights and try to catch some Zs. Again, here’s another problem with that: sometimes ladies can be a little too loud trying to find and clamber into their bunk at the weirdest and most inopportune moments. It tends to wake me up and I’m sorry friends, I know you’re just doing your best but when the room is deadly quiet, every floorboard creak sounds like a damn earthquake.

 

 

And finally, we should probably talk about the plague. Not the one back in Europe in the fourteenth century, although that might make an interesting addition to this article. No, I’m talking about the plague that spreads among sorority girls faster than you can say “comfort colors.” Within the first week of class, at least half the house was coughing, sneezing, and blowing their noses nonstop. I’m proud to report that I was among the minority of girls that was feeling healthy and spry thanks to my strong immune system (love you, girl). But let’s just think about that for a minute. That’s eighty-some female people living in close quarters and sleeping JUST A FEW FEET FROM EACH OTHER. A snot-filled recipe for disaster.

 

So Anyways, those are my current feelings on the cold dorm. It could be worse, but I’m surviving I guess. Whatever. Alexa, play “i hate u i love u” by gnash.