A Review of a Dorm Room
When you walk into the room of college students, you most likely automatically hold your breath in anticipation of the smell. What can I say? Put two people who have probably never had to live on their own together and not a whole lot of cleaning is going to happen. A couple of my friends didn’t even do laundry until halfway through December, which happens to be a (disgusting) extreme, but you get the idea.
However, MY room, my lovely little sanctuary, couldn’t be farther from the sticky, smelly, not-so-tidy stereotype that is the college dorm. As soon as you walk in, you’re immediately hit with the sense that you’re coming home. The low-lit atmosphere that is lightly scented with vanilla and spices makes for a very homey space. As soon as I come back from a long day of classes, I head straight for the bean- bag under my roommate’s lofted bed, where I curl up under my favorite blanket with my laptop and a steaming cup of tea…
Excuse me. I was getting ahead of myself.
When you first move away from home, for me the place I lived for 18 years, you are filled with a sense of emptiness and terror that can only be cured by your mom’s freshly baked cookies and her hugs, or your dad’s laugh and his shouts at the TV during intense football games. I’ll let you know when that homesickness goes away, but for now my dorm room is the place I can go to feel at home, even if that home is only temporary.
My bed, though not as comfortable as the bed I grew up sleeping in, makes for a comfortable perch to study, read, watch movies, and most importantly: sleep. It’s usually covered in a gray comforter, but when this picture was taken it was in the wash. Because I, unlike my two friends who will go unmentioned, actually do laundry on a regular basis.
Anyways, as you can see in the aforementioned picture, room 211 is lined with small Christmas lights year-round, giving it a cozy, warm glow that is nearly perfect lighting for reading, or for watching Netflix. Whichever is the preferred activity.
My dorm room is a compilation of my roommate’s and my personalities. The mixture of posters that are spread across our room is evidence of our differing but compatible interests, which spark many conversations that involve the rest of our friends. Room 211 is rarely seen without multiple college students sprawled across many pieces of furniture, noses in phones. Socially being anti-social.
My room is a place where I can go to think about my problems and solve them, and a place where I can go to avoid them. A place where I can study for my midterms, or sit silently procrastinating on the essay I have due in 20 minutes. My happy place, my angry place. It’s the one place I can go and not feel judged for anything, and yet feel judged for everything.
In better words, my room is my space. It is both wonderful and comforting, and no place I have ever inhabited has given me the sense of comfort and safety than my place has.