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My Moving Out Experience

 Written by    May 22, 2017

After two years of being forced to happily living on campus, the time had come for me to move out of the dorms for the final time.

Despite living with five other suitemates, I would be the final one to check out. Naturally, a fair amount of the cleaning was placed in my hands. As I scraped at the off-color slop that had caked the side of my sink for the better part of a semester, I felt a sense of sadness at the realization that my time with my suitemates had come to an end. We were all randomly paired up, and we got along surprisingly well. Whether it was the fact that we would venture out to parties together, or the fact that we had a dozen video game consoles between ourselves (and a combined GPA of 3.1), we had a memorable year together.

These are good people.

Nevertheless, I was itching to leave as soon as possible. It turns out that sleeping alone in an empty dorm building is quite spooky, especially when the only sound coming into your room is from that one crosswalk on Woodruff Avenue that incessantly blares “Woodruff, walk sign is on to cross Woodruff, Woodruff…” as you slowly descend into madness.

On the morning that I was due to check out, I finished up the last of the cleaning, packed the remainder of my belongings, and waited for my family to come pick me up.

Quite a transformation.

My parents drove to Ohio State on May 5, and naturally, the car broke down the moment it was thirty feet outside the entrance to my dorm. In the pouring rain, we waited for someone to tow the car away. We huddled for warmth like penguins. Despair gripped us mere minutes after this tragedy had occurred.

At last, a gentlemen with a tow truck came to our rescue. He said he would bring it back to his shop, and that he would have it repaired and ready to drive by the next morning. Reassured, we finished taking my belongings out of my dorm and into my apartment with a rental car, and then checked into a hotel for the night.

Bless your soul, sir.

The next morning, we called up the repair shop. Someone eventually picked up after the fourth or fifth call, and they softly broke to us the news that the shop was closed for the weekend and that the earliest the repairs could get done was on the upcoming Monday (three days later). With the haunting realization that we were doomed to die in Columbus settling in, we decided to fly home and figure out the car situation on another unspecified, ominous day in the near future.

Now that I have been home for a few weeks and have had time to reflect, I must say, this past school-year went well for me for numerous reasons. And I am excited to live in my own place next year. It will require me to be more independent and self-sufficient, and I imagine it will also teach me other essential life skills.

Let’s see what life outside of the dorms has in store for me.

Plus, my apartment has a hot-tub.

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