I Wish I Was a Writer

What I will not miss about the Sacramento State dormitories:

Living on the third floor. At this point, it is really hard to get angry over the fact that I live three stories above the ground, with only a cold hard stairwell allowing me access to this notorious “ground level”. I have traversed the staircase enough times, that I don’t even think about it as I climb. I know ever nook and cranny, how you can see the pool from the third floor window but not the second, how loose sandals sound as they slap the concrete on the way down, the familiar enormity of the white floor markings. But looking ahead, I welcome the miniscule ascent to my second floor room at home.

Having to cross the lawn, just to get breakfast. Although I usually had cereal in my room, it was more of a late night snack than an early morning one. So my first meal of the day almost always comes from the DC, which happens to be down three flights of stairs, across the lawn, and past a treacherous and often bitterly cold hallway. The length of distance between myself and fresh food is often enough to make you want to just give up. Breakfast might as well be perched atop Mount Everest.

The booming, cacophonous sound of the garbage truck at 10:30 in the morning, or sometimes earlier if they are feeling particularly spiteful. Who scheduled the pick-up at this ungodly hour? Why not just pay someone to punch us in the face every morning. We like to have the window open, to keep from suffocating in our sleep, so in the otherwise tranquil stillness of the morning, the behemoth garbage truck gruffly grabbing the dumpsters and slamming them back and forth feels like it is happening in my room. But even with the window closed it doesn’t get much quieter.

There are probably a lot more things I won’t miss about the dorms, and quite a lot of things I will miss, but these were the most fun to rant about.