I love living at F. It’s social, I know pretty much everyone who’s living there, and most of those people I’ve called friends for the last three years. I can run upstairs on a Saturday to grab a glass of my own wine before going back down. I can, but probably won’t, go play beach volleyball on a sunny day. It’s easy to support our soccer teams or go on the cross country trails, and the arduous walk up the hill is doing wonders for my glutes. One of my roommates has likened waking up in her F bed to waking up on Christmas morning. But what is it really like to live here?
1. Monday
Silence. I can get all my work done in my room because it isn’t loud here. If I work with my door closed, I can almost block out the Gilmore Girls marathon going on two rooms away. But what was that mysterious crash coming from the apartment above?
2. Tuesday
I love F and F loves me. I’m cooking in the kitchen with the groceries I finally brought myself to buy. It feels gourmet. My desk is a wonderland of productivity. Maybe I can fit an episode of Stranger Things in tonight.
3. Wednesday
To partake or not to partake in the Wednesday festivities? It’s still pretty far away from the weekend, but I could socialize. Yeah, I mean, all I have to do is walk downstairs… After all, I’ll be hearing the music until 12 either way.
4. Thursday
Until Kpub season officially begins, Thursday will remain the night that I can really get things done, music or not. But if there is music? I’ll be at my desk listening to ambient music and ignoring the urge to dance every time “Closer” comes on.
5. Friday
TGIF, amirite? And TBT to the days of freshman year when 11 p.m. was the earliest that you could possibly arrive at F. Now? Let’s have a drink and go downstairs around 9, since we’re all friends here. If I want another drink that’s not Keystone Light? No problem, I can just walk upstairs, use my own bathroom, and pour something respectable for myself.
6. Saturday
I’ve been making Saturday my go-to-bed-early-ish night, i.e. before the music goes off at 2 a.m., and it’s really no problem since the Davidson workload has already made me tired enough to fall asleep almost immediately. And dancing up a storm at a court party is exhausting, but in the best way.
7. Sunday
Sunday night? Seriously? Should I file a noise complaint?*
*I understand Sunday Funday. Just wanted to let you know.
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