Monday, September 26, 2011

Is this your sock?

It's a really, really good thing I'm not one of those high school graduates who went right off and got married, because according to recent studies, I can barely even take care of myself and one tiny dorm room at the same time. Here are some highlights from two Saturdays ago:

Saturday morning I walked a visiting friend out to her car. I had a paper to write that day before I left for the evening, so I hurried back to my room. I got up to the third floor, shuffled through my bag, and realized I had left my keys inside. I knocked and knocked, but my roommates had apparently all disappeared within the five minute window that I had been gone. I decided that was okay because I needed to grab some lunch anyway, and then I could go to the cd store which I had been wanting to do. Once I got to the cd store, on the complete opposite side of campus, my roommate called me to tell me she was in the room, and only would be for a half hour. I lied that I could be there in fifteen minutes and sprinted across campus. I was wearing horrible shoes and my flat feet seized up, but I was not deterred. I even ran up my stairs, lost my shoe, and had to run back down for it and then up again. It was like Cinderella - prince + asthma. I barely made it in as my roommate was leaving.  

I had plans for the night, so I was going through my clothes trying to find a white shirt. As I did this, I realized that not only was my white shirt missing, but so was a gray cardigan and various pairs of socks. Also a lot of underwear. I pulled my room apart before I realized that they were all the same color, which meant that maybe....

I had left all my whites in the washing machine. The washing machine used by the entire building. Downstairs. FOR THREE DAYS. WITHOUT DRYING THEM. Sure enough, there they were, somehow unstolen. I threw them in the dryer. 45 minutes later I headed back down for them, deciding I wouldn't need a hamper because it was such a small load. I piled the cardigan, white shirts, socks, and underwear in my arms and headed up to the third floor again. I shuffled through my bag with one hand. I had left my keys inside. And were my roommates home yet? No. They were not.

I knocked on my RA's door for several minutes before I saw the note that said he was out of town. So I hauled myself and my underwear down to the next floor. That RA was gone, too. So was the one on the first floor.

"That's okay," I thought to myself. "I can call the front desk." But had I left my cell phone in my room, also? Why, yes. I had. So I picked up my load of laundry (sans hamper, remember) and trucked it out to the Housing and Residential Center. Did I mention I was wet from a recent shower? Did I mention I was wearing a bright orange t shirt? Did I mention I was carrying a humongous wad of underwear? Did I mention it was not a very short walk? The Asians just stared.

The guy at the desk said he'd walkie-talkie for a guy to let me in, which never actually happened. That's okay, because my other roommate was home by the time I had made my very unique walk of shame back. She had a few friends over who she introduced me to.

Me: Nice to meet you.
Guy: Is this your sock? It was outside the door.

Morals of this story:

-Bring your keys, no matter where you go and how many roommates are home.
-Bring a laundry hamper, too, just to be safe.

"If you're running low on laundry, a swimming suit makes perfectly acceptable underwear." --Liz Lemon


  1. Haha! Oh Maggie. That is such an awesome Saturday story.

  2. Was that after I left?? We need to talk.