Spooky season is done and, apparently, so are my nostrils. Over the past weekend, without my knowledge, the apocalypse has consumed my dorm, leaving every last bit of the building looking like it was just attacked by a gang of rabies-ridden squirrels. I fear that maybe End Times are upon us because the noxious smell wafting through my hallway makes me feel like I’m in the ninth circle of hell. Because this complete disaster is ubiquitous, I will break this geography of madness into two sections.
The Bathroom
Who vomited out a rabid cat who then vomited up a hairball in every single shower drain? Last weekend, the showers were just fine—regular amounts of hair,—if I do say so myself. This weekend, suddenly, it seems I volunteered to be on the Titanic. I don’t remember signing up to drown in two-inch hairy water, but it appears I must have. At this point, the drains can barely function and my shower shoes aren’t protecting me from mingling with the germs that creep on the bathroom floor. And I’m a nice person, which I really am starting to regret, because I’ve been picking up the arachnoid-like hair clumps from the drain. Yet, despite my existence as a good Samaritan, every day some new mammoth sheds back into the same drain. Even worse than the showers are the sinks. Somehow all four billion men on earth have decided to shave everywhere but the sink. If this was a game of basketball, there would be no shots in the hoop. Instead of nothing but net, it’s everything but sink.
And this beautiful masterpiece mingles with the dead bugs that suddenly materialized. It appears that the flaming pile of trash that is now the bathroom attracted horror-movie level amounts of flies. I am sorry to whomever’s tomb I stepped on, but I did not ask for all ten plagues to come for me while I’m brushing my teeth. Also, on a nasal note, why does the bathroom smell like a pair of old cigarette-smoking skunks freshly died in the toilets? I honestly think I need to invest in a bubonic plague mask because I do not want to catch the diseases that are obviously breeding in the bathroom.
The Hallway
How is it that every section of the hallway has a different smell? It’s like the Epcot of the different smells of roaches dying, except I don’t eat a new cuisine from every hallway, unless I wanted to pick up the miscellaneous nibbles of food items that were already ravaged by a midlife crisis version of Remy the rat. Being in the dorm literally makes me look like the Puffs tissue mascot because of the way I’m sniffling my nose. It’s hard to rise and shine in the morning, anticipating a good day, and then to be instantly smacked in the face by the smell of a thousand stink bugs defecating on a recently sweaty sock in a porta-potty in a landfill. The hallway is biblically smelly and I believe if bad smells had a religion, the hallway would be the messiah. I think I should build a time machine to propose this smell as a form of torture in the Spanish Inquisition. No amount of Febreze could help me “Febreathe” through this nightmare, and the hallway needs an avalanche worth of Tic Tacs.
Whatever happened this weekend and led to an absolute nightmare of a mess, I am so sorry to the people who clean the dorm. You guys are my heroes, honestly. And to whoever released all 99 problems onto this dorm, remember me as your victim and make sure to put flowers on my grave.