Written by an angry resident with too much pasta and nowhere to cook it.

I wake up in the morning and clamber over to my desk, which is in an odd position on the wall, jutting out into the middle of the room, given the random pipe and radiator placement throughout my dorm. After getting ready, I head to the bathroom, hoping that the toilet will actually flush right away. It doesn’t, because that would be too simple, so I am forced to run the water in the sink, which magically makes the toilet flushable. 

I then go over to the kitchen for breakfast. I stare at my full pantry, until I ultimately end up settling for just some tea—after all, the kettle is the only workable kitchen item in my entire dorm, which was, of course, bought myself, not given to us. 

After some classes, I decide to go grocery shopping. I enter the Trader Joe’s on 96th street and see rows and rows of frozen meals. I go to pick one up then remember: no microwave. That’s fine, I can heat it up on a stove. Oh wait. We don’t have a stove. No matter, I’ll get some cookies to bake, for a snack. Oh wait. No oven either. Fine—I’ll just get some groceries and move on with my life. I pick up some eggs and then realize—what am I going to do with perishable items? I sadly put them back and trudge out of the store with my off-brand Takis.

I come back to my dorm at the end of the day and stand by the window in the kitchen, looking out at the beautiful brick wall in front of me. I stand right where the oven and stove should be, because not only does it not work, it has been entirely removed from our dorm. I then head to take a shower. I turn on the hot water and—thank god!—it works. Halfway through the shower, however, the water gets icy cold before turning hot again almost immediately. Thanks for keeping me on my toes, 620! 

I then enter my room to sleep and turn on the four fans, as the lack of AC has made it very, very hot. No matter. Worse things have happened—right? Right? “At least I’m close to campus,” I chant to myself as I fall into a fitful sleep. Just eight more months of days and nights to go. 

620 W 116th Street via Bwarchives.