Expectations v. Reality of Living at F

“So how is it living at F?” Thanks for asking, imaginary inquirer! In a strange way, it’s both exactly how you’d expect and very different. 

Expectation: I might just never sleep again.

Reality: And why would you want to?

Expectation: The noise. Oh god the noise.

Reality: Turn down for what?! Oh, it’s 12 on a weekday. So…for that. We’ll turn down for that. We turn into pumpkins at midnight. Pumpkins with 9:30s. 

Expectation: As long as its not Friday/Saturday night I’ll totally be able to get work done in my apartment.

Reality: I always have noble intentions of going up the hill to study on Wednesdays. Does it happen? No. Do as I say, not as I do!

Expectation: Seriously, I’ll be able to ignore all that and do my reading for seminar…it’s only sixty more pages…maybe I can even get to bed early…

Reality: That Taylor Swift song the Phi Delts are blasting has me feeling some kind of way…

Expectation: OKAY I’ll do a sober lap, give me a minute.

Reality: “This crop top looks ok, right? Is there any Barefoot left?”

Expectation: Everyone will break my stuff and I will never have a functioning toilet again.

Reality: Third floor? No worries. First floor? There will be a beer can shoved down your toilet Nobody even has to put it there; it is willed there by the F gods. Shh, don’t question it. 

Expectation: Everything in my apartment will be covered in beer. Forever. And ever. Amen.

Reality: I wish this were wrong, I really do. All I can say is yesterday I tried to wipe down my kitchen table and the wet wipe stuck to the table and wouldn’t move. Here is a video reenactment of my reaction.

Expectation: I’ll be so close to the cross country trails! I’ll go running all the time!

Reality: Walking up the hill is a workout. I don’t care what you say.

Expectation: It will smell like beer and mildew outside all week.

Reality: It will smell like beer and mildew outside all week, you will nurture a special relationship with your Glade Plug-In, and you will cherish every moment of it. 

Just take my word for it. You think I’d just get on the Internet and tell lies?