Description of my room

Firstly, one bedroom just large enough to fit three twin size mattresses with meager space to walk in between is far too small for three young men on the precipice of adulthood. The lack of ample walking space becomes a real trial in the morning when our eyes have barely adjusted to the light let alone negotiating moving around others in our halfhearted scramble to prepare our appearances for the day. In addition, to the uncomfortably close quarters we share, there is only one bathroom to accommodate all three of our daily needs and identical schedules, resulting in muffled quarreling as we slowly come out of our sleepy morning daze.

As for appearances, a prison cell of the most poorly funded judicial system would encourage brighter spirits. The walls, painted a sickly yellowish tan, meet asymmetrically in every corner which might give it a certain element of charm were it not for the dark brown stains from human oils and fingerprints that have collected over decades that cover almost every surface. The bars on the windows, though entirely functional and necessary to our community, can’t help but remind occupants of the nature of the world outside rather than providing some ostensible security. The beds, to quote Lewis Black, feel as if they were designed by someone with scoliosis who was especially pissed off that day. My roommates’ general indifference to the miserably thin padding forces me to challenge my perception of what constitutes a mattress. The permanent brown stains on the sheets provided do little to assuage my apprehension of sleeping in this dismal excuse for a bed. My only salvation comes from the ceiling fan installed directly above my bed which seems to propel wind with the force of a single engine prop plane, ameliorating my back pain by gently caressing my body with gusts of cool air. Despite my qualms, the situation could always be far worse.