As my Wednesday classes have drawn to a close and I sit inside my double on Newton and write this article out, it really has been quite an emotional week. All of the ups and downs, all of the strained friendships, the conversations held in secret so that others would not know about them. It begin to feel more like I was planning a coup than just picking where I was going to live next year.
When I imagined living on campus during college, I was just excited to be getting away from home and getting to be independent of my family. This was my time to shine, and I could hardly wait to have a roommate. But this past week, I saw people start to lose it.
It all started on Thursday, the day of the reaping. Or rather, the selection for 8-man pick times. I remember sitting in the Rat when the emails went out, and being able to pick out who had been chosen and who had not just from the facial expressions on those around me. Then came the regrouping stage, meetings amongst the 8 of us, trying to figure out what we were supposed to do now. And the growing acceptance of the fact that CoRo could very well soon become where I will call home next year.
But everyone tries to put on a brave face, stay upbeat and hope for the best. But once you go 0 for 2 on pick times, you kinda begin to feel that karma is getting back at you for something you did in the past. I would have to say the 6-mans were by far the most uncomfortable experience, seeing people get cut from groups so that they could have a better shot of living on Lower next year. But as the 6-man pick times came and went, I knew that luck clearly was not on my side.
So I called my mom to rant to her about how unfair ResLife was, and how I should have gotten an 8-man. (Also to ask for money, but that’s beside the point.) She then proceeded to shut me down as all good mothers. She told me that although I didn’t get my pick time, I was still getting an education at one of the finest universities in the country. I had my meals and my housing paid for, and was guaranteed a place to live. I had nothing to complain about. Then she went on to tell me about how I needed a haircut and should stop spending so much money on eating out.
Her words really helped me to put what had been going on in perspective. So as the 9-man selection came and passed today, this is what I gathered: I will not be living on Lower next year. But I will be living on CoRo will some of the best friends that I have made in college and I know plenty of people who will be living on Lower that I can go crash with. I will be able to wake up 15 minutes before classes and get there on time, and I will have The Nest right next to me. And most importantly, I will still be going to Boston College. On the bright side, my mom did put 50 dollars into my account. So overall I would call the housing process a success.