(no subject)
My dorm room has one side wall that is a giant bulletin board. I arrived first on move-in day, and picked this side because I cared more about posters than shelves. Once I had my clothes all unpacked, I couldn't wait to put up my posters. Before my roommate even arrived, everything was up and the personality of Amy had been brought into Bogart Hall, room 205. I have no finals today and my study session isn't until tonight, so I figured today was a good time to get some stuff packed up, since I'm leaving right after my final on Thursday.
I started with my three strings of lights. I pulled out all the thumbtacks, and the lights came crashing down on to my bed. The only thing left that I could do today was to take down my posters. Almost every inch of my bulletin board wall was covered with posters, postcards, pictures, valentines, a calendar, drawings, and various other items collected throughout the year. This is what made my room different from everyone else's, and was what people noticed first and commented on first. And in ten minutes, everything was gone. And suddenly my room feels blank, empty, uncomfortable, and really, even smaller than it already feels. For the first time it hit me that I'm actually moving out. I lived, worked, and slept in this room for the last nine months, and I will never set foot in it ever again. I will clear out all my stuff on Thursday morning, less than three days from now, and I will push the furniture back to the way it was when I arrived in this room on August 26th. I will turn in my keys to my RA who I have not spoken to since I moved in and met him on the fitness center gym floor at the Bogart Hall table. Then finally, the car will be packed full of my entire life's worth of necessary possessions, and I will return to the life I had before I knew Parkies, CHPK, garlic pizza, Wegman's, Jerry Gambell, Jade Garden, and so many other things that make IC so fantastically awesome. And then we'll all be back together again in the fall and the cycle continues until the time speeds by. And suddenly we're 22 and sprinting around grabbing coffee for someone who's an assistant to someone that does something important to an unimportant TV program.
I started with my three strings of lights. I pulled out all the thumbtacks, and the lights came crashing down on to my bed. The only thing left that I could do today was to take down my posters. Almost every inch of my bulletin board wall was covered with posters, postcards, pictures, valentines, a calendar, drawings, and various other items collected throughout the year. This is what made my room different from everyone else's, and was what people noticed first and commented on first. And in ten minutes, everything was gone. And suddenly my room feels blank, empty, uncomfortable, and really, even smaller than it already feels. For the first time it hit me that I'm actually moving out. I lived, worked, and slept in this room for the last nine months, and I will never set foot in it ever again. I will clear out all my stuff on Thursday morning, less than three days from now, and I will push the furniture back to the way it was when I arrived in this room on August 26th. I will turn in my keys to my RA who I have not spoken to since I moved in and met him on the fitness center gym floor at the Bogart Hall table. Then finally, the car will be packed full of my entire life's worth of necessary possessions, and I will return to the life I had before I knew Parkies, CHPK, garlic pizza, Wegman's, Jerry Gambell, Jade Garden, and so many other things that make IC so fantastically awesome. And then we'll all be back together again in the fall and the cycle continues until the time speeds by. And suddenly we're 22 and sprinting around grabbing coffee for someone who's an assistant to someone that does something important to an unimportant TV program.