It's déjà vu. It's off to college, all over again. That's what it feels like as I endeavor to settle in to dormitory life and into the library. I distinctly remember how elated I was when I spent my last day and night in the dorm when in college.
Now that I am residing in the end room in the men's dorm again, all the affective aspects of dorm life are returning for me. I hear the jangling of keys and the tapping of keys turning lock cylinders echoing through the empty hallway. Doors creak open and closed as one by one residents rise to make their way to the loo after a night of sleep. Strange, though, isn't it, that we dorm residents almost always manage to proceed unseen as we ambulate from our rooms? It's almost as if there were some unwritten code that guides us lest we encounter one another in the dormitory hallway. Strange, very strange. But it is all coming back to me now.
Such is the way of dorm life. I suppose that I shouldn't say anything about the aromatic qualities of dorm life, an aspect that I have not missed since the days of youth. But it is the aspect that is altogether too much present though unseen in a men's dorm. Less than entirely adequately tended to necessary rooms have a way of pervading the hallway with aromatic pungency dominating one's olfactory senses. Why must it be this way? Update: It's better today. Some cleaning and freshening made it sweeter.
Now that I am residing in the end room in the men's dorm again, all the affective aspects of dorm life are returning for me. I hear the jangling of keys and the tapping of keys turning lock cylinders echoing through the empty hallway. Doors creak open and closed as one by one residents rise to make their way to the loo after a night of sleep. Strange, though, isn't it, that we dorm residents almost always manage to proceed unseen as we ambulate from our rooms? It's almost as if there were some unwritten code that guides us lest we encounter one another in the dormitory hallway. Strange, very strange. But it is all coming back to me now.
Such is the way of dorm life. I suppose that I shouldn't say anything about the aromatic qualities of dorm life, an aspect that I have not missed since the days of youth. But it is the aspect that is altogether too much present though unseen in a men's dorm. Less than entirely adequately tended to necessary rooms have a way of pervading the hallway with aromatic pungency dominating one's olfactory senses. Why must it be this way? Update: It's better today. Some cleaning and freshening made it sweeter.
