OPINION: If My Roommate Doesn’t Stop Coughing I’m Going To Drop Out Of School
There has been a plague going around Boston College over the last few weeks. Although we are not at norovirus levels of contamination yet, but I have no doubt in my mind that soon Stuart Dining Hall will be once again wrapped in saran wrap, as it deserves.
I can ignore the big issues for a long time, but not when they directly affect me. My roommate has been coughing like a whooping-cough-stricken infant for far too long.
Therefore, I’m forced to make this pledge: If my roommate doesn’t stop coughing, I am going to drop out of Boston College.
I can’t take it. Throw up in my bed for all I care. Sneeze in my mouth. I’d love that. But I absolutely cannot stand to hear my direct roommate smother her satanic coughs into her pillow anymore. I’m afraid she’s going to hack up one of her lungs in the middle of the night.
Is the nighttime not sacred anymore? Does no one understand that the time between 8:00 P.M. and 6:00 A.M. is personal, reserved for sleeping, love-making, or Mario-Kart battling, and nothing in between?
If I am startled awake by her barking one more time I will either call the police or that weird back office in Stokes South to tell them that I am running away to become a street performer. I will play trash can drums so badly that it rocks the entire city of Boston.
This is your last chance to go to CVS and buy some goddamn throat lozenges, Emma. My love is conditional. You can use my ExtraCare card. Just fucking do it.