I moved out of my dorm yesterday. My mom asked me if it was sad at all, and no, it was not. I will not miss the person above me bouncing a basketball at all hours of the day. (If that sounds like an innuendo, it’s not. He was actually just bouncing a basketball. There was one time I’m positive he was not, in fact, bouncing a basketball, but I used that time as a basis for comparison so I’m certain all subsequent times were him just bouncing the damn basketball.) I will not miss the we-ran-out-of-toilet-paper-in-the-communal-bathroom situation. I will also not miss running up and down the stairs all day. And I will not miss people dumping my laundry out on the floor like heathens. That’s not to say living in the dorms was a wholly unpleasant experience. I liked not having to go grocery shopping very often.
Next year I’m going to be living in an apartment with my friend from high school who we’ll call Caitlyn. We literally went apartment hunting for one day, because we knew what we wanted when we saw it. We were also sick of walking places. No, I kid. It was the first thing. Also I was tired of walking.
I just dropped Alex off at school and got gas in my pajamas. If that’s indicative of my summer prospects I’m ignoring it. Did I mention while I was moving out of my dorm, it was snowing? But it’s forty degrees now, so summer is here.