I filled out the housing application for my next university. Am I smoker? Yes. Would I be alright with a smoker roommate? Hell yes. Send them to me. I need someone to take cigarette breaks with me in the “designated areas” (most likely my car, like in the good old days of community college). Gender inclusive? Sure, why not, I don’t care what gender anyone is. Boys are less likely to use my makeup, anyway. Am I interested in a single suite? Absolutely, despite the extra cost and the wait list. I think I missed the deadline for the townhouses, but I don’t really care about those anyway. Next I should figure out the meal plan. I’m honestly looking forward to the possibility of losing at least a little weight when I first get there, since I can’t eat in crowds/in front of strangers/alone in a strange place.
I need to get sheets. And pillows. I realized I can’t bring what I have now, since I’ll be returning home and will need my bedspread available to me. Do I need a microwave or something? Fuck it. A mini-fridge? That sounds expensive, but I will need to hoard booze. You’re not allowed to have alcohol in the dorms, but I am a human and I need to abuse drugs.
Really though, how the hell am I going to masturbate? Is that in the forefront of anyone else’s mind when moving into a dorm? Because it’s at the forefront of mine. How much makeup should I bring? I need enough to cycle around and have variety, but I’m also worried about my future roommate stealing it. Yes, I am worried about someone stealing my makeup. It happens. Also, what books should I bring? What clothes should I bring? How will I even transport everything from point A to point B? I need to open a new credit card or something because my credit union is local and I won’t be able to get to one out there. Jesus. I also really need to cancel my damn gym membership but I don’t feel like driving out there just to have them tell me I’m doing it wrong, or whatever.
I imagine only the worst scenarios. Approaching the door to my room, seeing a sock on the handle (do people actually do that?), turning around and walking outside and climbing into my car, lying down in the backseat with a cigarette, calling my best friend (who probably wouldn’t answer) and crying and bitching about how my roommate is getting fucked and I can’t even get into my room. I don’t know. I don’t know what “real” college is like.
I feel like I’m floundering around and missing important information, losing money, and I am worried.