My morning schedule is simple: wake up, brush my teeth, shower and get out of bed (not necessarily in that order). The only real problem I can run into is if something major goes awry, such as there not being hot water. Luckily, this only happens about every other day in Denton Hall. On those days, the shower cruelly teases me, warming up as if it was about to get hot — then suddenly plunging me into the Arctic. When paying nearly $3,000 per semester for housing, I should get hot water. Maybe the university could offer discounted diner food for the days it does not provide hot water. To prevent students from lying about this, a representative from the school could stand in a cold shower for five minutes to verify that it is indeed piercing and numbing at the same time.
Teeth still chattering, I walk out into the rain. Of course it is raining — what other weather could there be in the middle of winter? Thanks to the design of the sidewalks on campus, I will be wading through small koi ponds at least five times on my way to class. My socks soaking, lectures that are already hard enough to pay attention to become downright miserable. But this is not the worst part about rainy days on the campus. The worst part is the pairs of girls with huge umbrellas who insist on walking beside each other, effectively blocking the entire sidewalk while moving the speed of diseased livestock. Maybe they watched Gandalf face the Balrog the night before, or maybe they are having a very important gossip session — all I know is they want to keep me trudging glumly in the rain for as long as possible.
Food never fails to cheer me up, though, and even if food at The Diner is not spectacular, a sandwich seems like a safe bet. Oh, it looks like the person making my Maryland Club forgot to add lettuce … I guess I can just ask them to put that on. Wait, I said lettuce, not mayo. No, not hot sauce either … too late. This is probably the least appetizing sandwich I have ever paid for, but there are way too many people in line behind me to make a fuss. Maybe discounted food is not worth cold showers.
If there is one thing I learned from Sesame Street, it is to look both ways before crossing the street. What it did not teach me, however, is that while most drivers are very courteous to pedestrians, every now and then one will speed up near crosswalks as if to say, “See how fast I’m going? Even though you have the right of way, I would highly recommend you do not cross because I will have no problem flattening you.” Obviously, walking in front of these cars is a bad idea, but it is usually hard to tell which drivers do this until you are on the road. I almost hope these drivers hit a pedestrian — you deserve a lifetime of debilitating guilt for trying to shave five precious seconds off your trip in the most stupidly dangerous way possible.
Ultimately, none of these nuisances compare to the stench the triple on my floor emits. It is an odor so foul, its residents should be arrested for disturbing the peace. It makes me gag so hard that my body is incapable of vomiting, even though it really wants to. So, as you go through your day, dealing with problems similar to those I have described, remember: Someone in Denton smells worse than you.
Rajarshi Chattopadhyay is a sophomore aerospace engineering major. He can be reached at chattopadhyay@umdbk.com.
