8 Months

Laura found it hard to believe 4 and a half months had passed since she wrote the last final exam of her first year in college. Returning home after freshman year had been a much needed respite from it all. To think, she thought, I used to bemoan kicking around this go-nowhere town. Catching up on sleep and eating home-cooked meals had been a godsend, and she'd never appreciated the company of childhood friends quite like she had this summer.

This time last year, there was an allure of going away to college that created a genuine excitement and anticipation of living the life that Hollywood propagates for stereotypical 18-year olds. This August, the novelty of the experience didn't even register a murmur for Laura. Rather, it was a resignation to another 8 months of the trials and tribulations of dorm life. School itself was great - the challenges, the events, and all the guys, but when it came time to return to the "glorified closet" as she so disdainfully referred to her dorm room, the luster wore off quite quickly.

For starters, even a hyper-somniac would have difficult sleeping on that saggy old mattress. Couple that with incessant late-night hallway shenanigans and a roommate who, however agreeable, ground her teeth constantly, and there was little shut-eye to be had most nights. Then there was the desk chair that had been abused so thoroughly over the years that it featured the best in random-tilt technology and wheel casters as frozen as Lake Winnetonka in January. The dresser drawers that every morning required a tug-of-war-like pull before coming completely free of the cabinet added to her overall disillusionment.

"Character building" is how her dad had chosen to dispel her complaints when she brought them up over the course of the summer. "Maybe he's right," Laura thought, "after all, what's three more years in the course of a lifetime." She buoyed her spirits fairly well with this mindset in the days leading up to her departure, but as the bus rolled through the countryside Laura couldn't resist feeling down as she thought of her most unaccommodating accommodations.

Two weeks into the semester, she received an email from her mother:

"Make sure you're in your room next Tuesday between 3-5. If you can't let me know. Don't ask questions if you like surprises. Love, Mom"

Laura did like surprises, in fact so much so that she skipped Trig. that day to be there as instructed. Was it ever worth it when the delivery van pulled up. It seems Mom had been quietly sympathetic to her complaints, and with a quick e-visit to www.cymax.com she resolved to put an end to her precious daughter's discomfort. With a simple signature, Laura smiled as she accompanied her new twin bed, chest of drawers and Boss deluxe posture chair up to her room.

Banishing that bed, dresser and sorry excuse for a desk chair to the storage locker for the next 3 years was one task Laura happily took on. She thoroughly enjoyed filling her new drawers with all of her clothing, relishing the roller glides as she opened and closed them repeatedly. She rolled around her desk chair with glee, but nothing compared to the feeling of falling into that new bed. What a difference!

Just like that, dorm life was looking up. The hallway calamity and her roommates' teeth grinding were out of her hands, but ear plugs were one expense she could handle without Mom and Dad.