February 22, 2017, by Lucy
Living in Halls
Living in halls has its upsides and its downsides. I’m not going to tell you that it’s all glitter and gold, because simply that’s not the case. However, I am also not going to tell you that it is hell, because that too is far from the truth.
Halls for most people are their first experience of living from home. With this comes freedom. Lots of freedom. No more eating meals prepared for by your mum, or being nagged at to do you chores. What you do is up to you. Eat all the Domino’s you like. Keep your room in the state you fancy. Only do your washing when you run out of underwear; the choice is yours. F-R-E-E-D-O-M.
I love my block. Indeed, there are only 30 of us living there meaning that there is certainly a community like feel in the place. Not a day goes by where someone from another flat hasn’t randomly come to your kitchen, or you are left signing a parcel for the lad upstairs. Everyone knows everyone, any face is a familiar face. You are genuinely only a corridor or flight of stairs away from your bffs, something which is guaranteed to lead to an increase in random chats at 4am when you are pondering the nature of humanity.
However, the other side to the coin that is socialisation is the noise. If someone has spent the last three hours hysterically laughing, you will hear it. If someone is having a shower karaoke sesh, you will hear it. If someone has committed to the idea of hoovering their room at 6am, oh boy will you hear it. If living in a room with paper thin walls has taught me anything, it is that people love a bit of Hairspray: put ‘You Can’t Stop the Beat’ on at a reasonable level and the flat will be immersed in a singalong session.
Along with all the friends that you make in halls, you will also grow a deeply engrained hatred for the fire alarm, as for those who decide that it is a good idea to set it off. As the fire alarm forces you away from the warm grips of your bed at 2am, it is likely that you will lie there for a good ten seconds and question how much you need to evacuate the building. Next thing you know you are stood in the cold darkness bleary eyed, waiting for the piercing alarm to end. As the warden comes and receives a reception more deserving to that of a king, you scurry back to you bed and lie there restlessly for five hours an accept the fact that you will not be blessed with sleep tonight.