The fire alarm goes off every other week.
THE FIRE ALARM GOES OFF EVERY OTHER WEEK.
Follow for more nostalgic dives into campus life.
Remember that jarring, all-consuming shriek? It was often at 3 AM, right when you finally understood that complex theory, or perhaps just drifted into a much-needed sleep. The dreaded fire alarm. We’d stumble out, half-dressed, into the cold night, joining a growing throng of equally bewildered, bleary-eyed peers. A collective sigh of frustration, then a few minutes of shared misery before the all-clear, and the shuffle back inside, the adrenaline still buzzing. Was it burnt popcorn? A rogue hair straightener? Or just the universe’s reminder that even in our hallowed halls, chaos could reign supreme?
This wasn't just an isolated incident; it was a cornerstone of our shared residential experience. It was part of the symphony of dorm life, alongside the incessant bass from next door, the passionate midnight debates seeping through thin walls, and the unexpected bursts of laughter from down the hall. Our dorms were microcosms of intense intellectual pursuit and equally intense, often chaotic, human interaction. From the scurry of an occasional mouse to the profound discussions that reshaped our worldviews, the background noise was always there. It was the soundtrack to late-night study sessions fueled by questionable coffee, to the forging of friendships that would last a lifetime, and to discovering who we truly were amidst the brilliant, boisterous, beautiful mess of it all. These aren't just memories of inconvenience; they're the vibrant, unscripted moments that truly defined our time there.