After just over two weeks of bitter, angry separation, I was finally reunited in happiness with my beloved Hollis suite, but it has not been an easy road.
It began a little over two weeks ago when I was informed that I had to move out of my cozy suite in Hollis Hall. Apparently the flood damage from the weekend was worse than initially thought, and the emergency repair work required that be displaced. And so I packed up my belongings and trudged to O’Connor Hall.
I became a little bitter. How could I be thrown out in the cold so quickly? After all the good times that Residence Life had provided, how could something as small as a flood come between us?
I sulked a little, and then did what any heartbroken soul does for healing. I went home to be comforted by family. And by comforted I mean have my laundry done for free and have appetizing, hot meals.
When I returned to my temporary quarters in O’Connor Hall last week, I was delightfully surprised to see brightly colored signs posted in the hallways.
“Reconstruction/Renovation in Hollis Hall will commence at 8:30 a.m. Saturday, February 8, 2003 and continue all weekend,” they promised. “You will be notified Monday afternoon or evening (starting with the lower floors) when you can return to your Hollis room assignments.”
My heart skipped a beat. Was I reading this correctly? Was I finally going to find out when I could go to my suite? I spent all Monday with my cell phone close at hand, waiting anxiously for it to ring so that I could hear the magical words from my dear friends in Residence Life, “You can move back in (insert day here.)”
Afternoon turned into evening and evening turned into night, and still no ring, no magical words. Nothing. Was it possible I missed the call? No, that couldn’t be it. Being the industrious journalism student that I am, I took it upon myself to go searching for answers. After speaking to several Public Safety officers, one RA, and an RD, I finally go an answer: the signs had been posted prematurely.
After two weeks of waiting, they had promised to notify me when I could move back in and once again, they broke my poor heart and let me down.
I was facing a third week in a suite other than the one I had paid for, with roommates other than the ones I requested last spring, and with no idea as to when I would see said roommates or my favorite poster again. I was forced to go back to writing papers in O’ Connor’s subterranean cyberlounge, my home away from home. I had no desk to work at in my temporary room, so where else could I go?
I was on the brink of giving Res Life a piece of my mind (I my friends, classmates and family had their fill by that point.) In fact, I decided I would go let them hear it. Right after I checked my mail. So, I headed over to Hollis and just as I opened my mailbox, who should appear? Steve Ciesielski, the RD of my building, and he had great news for me. I could finally move back in. Oh frabjous day, Callooh! Callay!
I was back in my beloved room my dear Residence Life. Thing’s don’t get any better than that. And so, this Friday, I can celebrate Valentine’s Day just like the everyone else. No more heartache, no more sulking, and best of all, no more sleeping on the couch.