Katherine

God, I hate this. I just ate in my college’s cafeteria for the first time, and I think I might vomit. I knew the pork sandwich I chose was questionable, but it looked way better than the sad, lumpy hamburgers or the pizza. I mean, I hoped I was looking at a mirage when I saw the pizza, but it was just grease.

I’m alone in my dorm room right now, trying not to puke. Fun. Last night wasn’t much better. All of my roommates were going to a meet-and-greet in the gym, and I decided to go along, just to see. On the way there, I met my roommates’ friend. I said something about not wanting to experience any more forced social interactions. She agreed. It feels like a continuous high school pep rally, or when I used to be in a youth group. (Both were bad experiences for me.) Also, every time I tell someone my major (English) and where I’m from (same place half of them are from), I feel like I’m getting more and more boring.

They herded all of the students into the gym and sat us down. One of the student volunteers led everyone in the wave. I decided to leave, but I couldn’t do so inconspicuously until they asked everyone to get into groups of three and tell one another their favorite cereal. I walked out of the gym as a student volunteer shouted “WAIIIIITTTT” at me. In the hallway, a janitor was like, “So, what’s your favorite cereal?” I told him I didn’t like cereal. It’s like cold mushy soup. “Me neither,” he said. ”I don’t even eat breakfast.” We talked for a few minutes more. I ended up walking around campus twice before strolling around a nearby neighborhood. When I got back to my room, my roommate told me that her friend, the one I had met earlier, had ditched the meet-and-greet after only a few minutes. Good. There were other people who didn’t give a shit about school-wide functions.

My roommates are OK. They seem nice enough? I brought them cookies, but they didn’t eat them. Right now, we’re all tiptoeing around one another, apologizing every time we breathe a little too hard. That’s acceptable starting out, but I hope it goes away soon. Asking the people I live with for permission to use the shower is getting old fast.

I did find one thing in common with one of my roommates. We both want to transfer. We were alone in the dorm room Saturday night, talking and eating pizza, and she said that she was about to start working on her application. I freaked out. “It feels like this dirty secret or something,” I said. She agreed.

Right now, I just want classes to start. Not barfing up lunch would be nice too. ♦