Satire: Francis Hall is The Worst!

Every morning I wake up to the sun shining through my huge Francis Hall dorm window and birds chirping in the courtyard outside. I roll over, leaving my plush comforter behind as my feet hit the marble floor and I head to the bathroom — another day in my ramshackle room awaits. 

The penthouse bathroom isn’t anything too spectacular — it’s only half the size of my bedroom back home, and the double vanity doesn’t provide nearly enough space to fit my exclusive Honors program merch. 

After getting ready for the day, I head down the spiral staircase, through the lobby and out the gleaming glass doors to my personal limo provided by the Francis Hall residence director. 

I grab a bite to eat with my friends at the rundown Simpson Dining Hall and I’m met with blank stares as I recount my struggle to make it to breakfast on time, explaining my private shower had been occupied by my suitemate. 

“Could you make it sound any more like you’re Harry Potter living in a cupboard under the stairs?” my friend asks sarcastically. 

I took great offense to this  — seriously, as a Campion dweller herself she should know. We may be on opposite ends of campus, but our dreadful dorm conditions are a shared experience. 

Sure, I have access to a marble kitchen and private chef, and there’s a secret rooftop infinity pool overlooking Lake Michigan, but Francis really is just like any other residence hall.

I try explaining this to my friend but she simply huffs and marches off. Unfazed, I continue on with my day, fantasizing about Francis Hall’s spa and gourmet ice cream.

But really, it isn’t quite that grand. The ice cream always tastes a bit off, especially when Tahitian vanilla is out of season, and the spa is a barebones amenity — nothing extraordinary, just personal masseuses and steaming jacuzzis. 

I wish my friends were more understanding of my situation and recognize all campus housing is on equal grounds. It’s not like Francis and Mertz are all that different. 

Just because Mertz consists of 15 stories of communal bathrooms and three-person, rickety bunk bed rooms that get flooded once a semester doesn’t mean it’s worse than Francis. 

It’s time to start counting down the days until I say bon voyage to Francis and start mentally preparing for my future shabby suite — Georgetown. I’ll really miss the constant struggle of choosing between the private chef’s gourmet dinner or the rooftop infinity pool — it’s simply too overwhelming for a girl just trying to survive college in Francis Hall.