krisis

We’re losing our minds. Obviously sitting in this room for 8-10 hours a day is driving us a bit batty, but to add to the atmosphere yesterday they brought us about $100 worth of snack food and caffine. Right now we’re playting 20 Questions, but i see a massive game of hide-and-go-seek happening a little later. Either that or hunting down the two squirrels we saw running up the metal steps yesterday… we don’t have any sort of meat here to eat and the absence of it is even a bit discomforting to me (and i’m the vegetarian of the bunch.

Updates from the squirrel roast as soon as we locate some skewers.

Howdy readers! I’m locked in the NSW “Command Post,” which i mentioned yesterday. This morning has been devoted to such mindless activities as counting out 1200 sheets of paper, punching holes in said pieces of paper, putting said paper into binders, and printing out 120 index sheets for the binders. The latter is the job i’m currently concerned with; it seems that the printer can only acknowledge one piece of paper at a time, so i’ve got to constantly reload it and press the feed button. But, only 120 times, which is a great relief after packing nearly 4000 bags for freshmen during my previous stint with Orientation. However, obviously one of the perks of being the printer jockey is that i’ve got to sit at the computer, so today isn’t shaping up to be all that bad.

It’s always nice to return from a grueling day of office work to find yourself inexplicably in the top five over at the reborn Power Bloggers. I don’t recall posting or editting very much today, but apparently i did. Oh well.

The day actually wasn’t too grueling, but tomorrow surely will be. The Alpha-leaders have their own office in the Drexel ROTC building complete with a small computer network and two phone lines. The coolest part, though, is the building itself. We’re tucked into a strange oak panelled hallway that has windows on one side looking down into some sort of gym or sparring room. One end of the hall ends in a flight of metal stairs that take you down to a half-boarded up door, and the other takes you into the main room of the complex (which is called The Armory).

The main room of the Armory is large enough to host hockey games, and it comes equipped with a set of bleachers that hang at least two stories from the ground. The other end of our hallway opens up onto those bleachers. The floor of the large area is used mostly for ROTC parking during the day, but it’ll be cleared out in favour of dinner for 2200 students this time next week. Walking though the place in wan sunlight without another soul around seems like an outtake from a teenaged horror flick, especially when climbing the stairs up or down from the amazing suspended bleachers.

More horror will be reported as i live it.

I unexplicably awoke at 7am this morning, much to my dismay. After contemplating life, the universe, and some other things, i went back to sleep. I was then jolted awake by the alarm clock at 8:23am, which i violently throttled until it stopped ringing. Finally, i willingly arose at 9:15am, extremely well rested.

I had a dream about seeing a play in New Orleans about an autistic child who was left alone at home by his mother who was obsessed with her houseplants the way most people are obsessed with their cats. The play was partially a cartoon, but mostly a musical. I was going to sit up front, but there were three rows of very old people there so i naturally assumed it was the VIP section. Also, i remember thinking that i wouldn’t meet any nice, stable, single people in New Orleans, so i should just enjoy the play and leave.

Then again, where would i meet some nice, stable, single people?

So much for sleep. Perhaps i should write about something personal and meaningful now. Yes, let’s. Hmm… I am turning into a different person in our apartment. Even in the house that i moved into Senior year i didn’t have the sort of reverance and possessiveness that comes with living somewhere where i pay the rent. I obsessively wash all of my dishes, i arrange the shower curtain, and i sit comfortable in the nook of my bottom bunk. Maybe it’s the wood floors, or the way sounds bleed in from all the walls. Sitting in my bed i could here the footsteps of the people in the apartment above ours, doors closing and opening in the hall, children laughing out in the street … and where in any other house that would annoy me to death, here it just adds to the atmosphere. I sat at my computer and drank tea from my favourite mug (not sure when i picked a favourite…) and then idly practiced fingerstyle guitar.

I’ve had my own room, my own floor in a small row-home, and a shared dorm room, but this is totally new and different. There’s no mother, no RA, no drunks to share my bathroom with.

This is home.