I was having a grand old time last Sunday, futzing around and generally procrastinating on my work (if my editor-in-chief is reading this, no I wasn’t). Mostly, this entails falling into a scroll-hole and cackling intermittently when something funny plays.
However, good times were interrupted when an excruciatingly loud and distinct beep, beep, beep marked the beginning of a fire alarm. I grabbed my coat, phone, airpods and my Kindle, and followed the swarm of students exiting the building.
I assumed that this was a run-of-the-mill fire alarm, which is why I decided to walk to the package center instead of standing around to gawk with the rest of the lemmings. I strutted my stuff to Shriver where I retrieved two packages in boxes wildly oversized in proportion to the books they contained, and then I strutted my stuff back to Stanton, where there was still a sizable crowd surrounding the building.
Luckily, by the time I reached the front door, the firefighters had come out and students were allowed to reenter the building. Right outside the entrance, a fireman was conferring with one of the resident assistants. He said someone had hung something on the sprinkler in their room (you know, the one you get emails about saying not to hang stuff on). I didn’t think much of this conversation, other than wishing students would actually read those emails from time to time. I walked inside.
I put my foot directly in an inch of water. I was wearing Uggs. Look, I know it’s difficult to avoid getting your shoes a little wet, and at that point the snow was mostly slush on the sidewalks. I understand these risks, but I wasn’t prepared for the entire first floor of Stanton to become a small pool in the span of an hour.
Most of the first floor and the basement were flooded. The facilities staff managed to get one of those big water vacuums, and a bunch of high-intensity fans, which, although effective, did make it sound like I was living in a commune with approximately ten thousand Roombas.
Enjoy what you're reading?
Signup for our newsletter
Call me crazy, but I expect certain privileges afforded to me when I’m living in a dorm; after all, mommy and daddy are paying a frankly outrageous amount of money for me to live there. I expect that toilet paper will be more than a single ply and paper towels won’t run out in the bathrooms. I expect that if someone owns a drumset, they don’t play it after 9 p.m. (yes, whoever is down the hall from me, I’m talking to you). I expect generally that the washers and dryers function normally, and yes, I expect that when I walk inside the building, I’m not walking into an aquarium.
I expect the administration will trust us enough to grant me use of a toaster for my bagels too, but I’ll take my battles one at a time.
Read More
Back to School Headline Dump
By Connor Oviatt | January 30, 2026The humor section gets you up to date on the happenings around campus.
Surviving the Snowpocalypse: A journal
By Connor Oviatt | January 30, 2026Connor details the harrowing experience of getting back to school and surviving the recent snowstorm.
What to do on a snow day
By Shannon Mahoney | January 30, 2026Wondering what to do with all of the snow we've received? Shannon's got you covered with some great activities to do on campus.