If you’re reading this, then congratulations, you’ve made it to midterms. Go ahead and give yourself a pat on the back because you are successfully navigating your way through one of the greatest challenges to humankind; you’re alive.

Hopefully the extra workload before fall pause isn’t too overwhelming, but at least know that even if stress is causing your hair to fall out, it’s only temporary. This week I’ll share a couple stories from students who have not quite figured out how to eloquently deal with some of the new emotions and problems that being on campus is bringing.

I’ll start with my own story. I am going to assume, for the sake of my own sanity, that people can relate to this. A couple of weeks ago as I was getting ready to go to my Spanish class. My roommate had already left for the morning, and I was getting my things together to go to the library to print an essay. However, the second I closed the door to go brush my teeth I realized that I had left my key in my room. After wallowing in my own self-pity for a moment, I decided my best option would be to call the RA, and pay the twenty-five dollars to get back in. I knocked on the nearest door to ask to borrow a cellphone. No luck with that, nobody answered.

Long story short: I borrowed a pair of pants from this girl, walked barefoot to Bosler, and then proceeded to lurk about the third floor classrooms in search of my roommate. I did eventually find her, and I think my total state of hysteria prevented the professor from getting angry with my disruption. So I believe the moral of this story is: Never leave the room without your key, and hope your neighbor wears the same size pants.

The second story comes from first-year Aurora Santangelo. She described her story as being a part of the “emotional upheaval of freshman year.” She admitted that she lofted her bed too high on move-in day, and this has given her some trouble. When I asked her how she gets up to her bed she said, “I leap…I like pole-vault up there without a pole.” Sounds impressive, right? Well, one night she was sitting on her bed and she dropped a spoon. (This spoon was actually a combination of a spoon, fork and knife, which she has named the ‘sporf’). Her immediate reaction upon dropping the sporf was to cry. She thinks she cried for about five to ten minutes, all the while her roommate was laughing at her. She did mention later that this event was “the kind of thing that gets you [and your roommate] closer together.” Luckily, when I asked her how this problem resolved she said, “I have a second spoon, an exact copy of that spoon.” A happy ending, no doubt.

So the next time you see someone in a bathrobe sitting outside their room, offer them a beverage or something, because that may soon enough be you. It would suit all of us to learn to be a little more empathetic. For some parting words of wisdom (my eighteen-year-old wisdom), always remember that no matter how many times you lock yourself out of your room, you will get back in. Enjoy fall pause!