Like war, college may be summed up by observing that it is a life of ongoing boredom punctuated with moments of terror. Of course that might have just been my view of finals. This story brings together many events into one day.

It was 6AM, and the Big Ben was drilling a hole in my head. Big Ben, the loudest and most obnoxious of all alarm clocks; the thing looked like it came from a Bugs Bunny cartoon. You could hear every tick and tock of every moment of the day and night. The alarm was a striker that kept hitting the two brass bells on the top of the clock. It made an unholy din that didn't stop until the damn thing actually ran down. You had to wind that sucker. I could hear the guy in the next room yelling to turn it off, but Mike blissfully slept on. Mike is my roommate and it was his alarm.

He was the eternal optimist. He always set his alarm early so that he could get a fresh start on studying. Of course if he hadn't gone out for pizza and beer he could have been studying last night. It was strange that he never woke up to the alarm because it sure woke up everyone else in our dorm. Today was going to be different though. Today I'd make sure he never set that damn alarm again. Mike was going to regret taking the top bunk, and now was the season of my discontent. I placed my feet on the bedsprings above me, placing my back firmly against my own mattress. I can leg press 375 pounds. Mike weighs 125 pounds. I wonder how much lift I'll get? Focusing upon all my anger and frustration over lost sleep and that damn alarm I heave my legs skyward. Mike sailed into the air, defying gravity for a second and then, being clutched firmly in its grip, he made the short trip down to the floor.

"What the hell!" yelped Mike, encased in his cocoon of blankets. "Are you mumbling about something?" I asked. "If you ever set that alarm again, you better get up because next time one or the other of you is going out the window and we're on the third floor." "All right. I get the message. Man, I'm getting a new roommate next semester." Mike muttered in his customary whining voice. With that bit of whining I snapped. "You got that straight, Skippy! Now while you're in such a cooperative mood, get all those bicycle parts out of that pan of solvent and get both the hell out of our room. I came to college to get smarter, not kill off brain cells. Living here is like huffing nonstop! I swear you're trying to kill us. Now get that solvent out of here before I sit your ass in it and throw in a match!"

I was startled by the sound of clapping and cheering coming from the doorway. During our little "roomie spat" a small crowd had gathered. It seems that everyone agreed with me. Mike seemed to think so as well. He picked himself off the floor, picked up the pan of solvent and parts and, mumbling all the while, made his way out the door and down the hall. "If we're lucky, he'll move completely out of the dorm." Randy said. It was Randy, my next-door neighbor who had been yelling minutes before about the alarm. It looked like everyone on the floor was awake now, whether they had planned to do so or not. It wasn't the greatest way to start a day, but if this meant that Mike was moving out, then maybe it would turn out all right. "Hell! I can't even see the sun yet, and today has already had more drama than a soap."

I'm not normally a morning person. I'm more of an afternoon person. It's not that I can't get up early. It's just that I don't want to unless I have a compelling reason, like class. Unfortunately, I don't have a class today until my lab at 10AM. I guess I'll go get some breakfast. I don't normally eat breakfast because of that waking up thing and because early in the day my stomach won't tolerate putting much into it. Ready or not stomach, it's time to work.

I threw on a shirt and a pair of jeans and made my way out into the hall. "Hey Buzz, squeet?" I asked. Squeet was dorm shortspeak for 'let's go eat'. "Of course, I eat breakfast at this time every day." Buzz said with a smile. Buzz always seemed to be smiling. He was new to the college experience and seemed to find joy in every part of it. Dorm life, classes, even getting up early in the morning; it all brought a smile to Buzz' lips. He was the kind of person you just wanted to be around. A positive attitude definitely goes a long way. Hmmmm, maybe I should see if Buzz would like to share a room. I'll wait on the heavy thinking though until breakfast is over. Instead I just said, "At least wait until the sun is up to eat breakfast, Buzz." "My dad got me up at this time every day of my life Besides, there is plenty of light outside. Let's go." he chuckled.

By the dawn’s early light, we made our way to the dining hall. Whenever someone saw the dining hall for the first time they always were shocked. The place was actually in the Guinness Book of World Records as the largest one room eating establishment in the world. There is a full size billboard poster on one wall. It looks small. You could stand at one end and throw a Frisbee as hard as you could and not hit the other side of the room. That isn’t an exaggeration; people tried on an almost daily basis. Have you ever eaten at the same time as 1200 other people? The clash of utensils, and drone of hundreds of conversations all occuring simultaneously. It’s more than a hum or rumble, something you can feel in your bones, a constant backdrop to the dining experience. I’m hopeful that the sonic rumble aids in digestion. Since breakfast and my stomach aren’t on the best of terms, I have to be careful what I choose. After all, it is a state school and does feed over 10,000 people at each meal. Let’s just say that they don’t employ world-class chefs. Greasy bacon and runny eggs which would make any vet cry in remembrance just don’t sound appealing. I think that I’ll have the nuked donuts. Before I came here, I would never have thought about eating a donut like they do here. Being frugal, I think that they serve us day old donuts that they buy from area shops. What they don’t serve on one day keeps appearing until it's gone or the mold gets it. You can make a stale donut taste OK with a little imagination. Just put it on a plate, cover it with butter and put it in the microwave, ‘voila, nuclear donut. It may not be the best tasting thing but I’m pretty confident that it kills all the germs.

As I cut my donut apart with a knife and fork I looked over at Buzz’ plate; pancakes, grits, runny eggs (My God! Did they dye those things yellow?), and a stack of bacon. "How can you eat so much so early in the morning Buzz?" I asked. "Shoot, this isn’t anything. If the food was any good, I’d really eat." he replied. I sat in amazement as Buzz methodically ate his way through the entire plate of cholesterol and congealing grease. With a final bite and a wistful look at the serving line, Buzz got up to leave. "See you later, I’ve got class early at the west campus. Enjoy your instant coffee." Buzz offered as a parting comment. I gave him a wave and watched his smiling face make for the doors as I sipped my Sanka.

It wasn’t even 7AM, and I didn’t have a class for another four hours. "I shouldn’t even be awake. If it weren’t for that damn Mike, I could still be catching z’s." I thought. With nothing to do I continued to sit and watched as other bleary eyed students made their way into the dining hall to share in its epicurean delights. I had just reached a zen-like state of oneness with the universe when I suddenly felt a sharp punch to my left shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Randy asked as he threw himself into the chair next to mine. "I’m meditating." I loftily replied. "It looked more like you were sleeping with your eyes open." he said. "Well, that and letting my coffee get cold." I admitted. "Come with me to the laundry. They’re supposed to have our stuff ready." And with that, Randy led the way out of the dining hall.

We made our way across a sea of starving students, heading to the haven which we had just left and entered the school laundry. Having your laundry done by someone else sounds great. This service didn’t come free. We had to pay for it whether we used it or not. If you didn’t have a lot of money or a way to an off campus laundry, then the campus cleaners is where your clothes where cleaned. You could always tell if someone used the campus service. For one thing, no matter how often you told the attendant or wrote it upon your order, they would put heavy starch on everything. I know one guy who had a tee shirt made that said, "Do not starch this shirt". Of course they starched it. That may not sound like a big deal but once you cut your neck on a stiff shirt collar, you were sure to change your mind. And when I said they put it on everything, I meant everything. Starched underwear is no treat. I won’t even begin to tell you what the starched creases in a pair of skivvies would do to tender flesh. I am pretty sure that this was the inspiration for Madonna’s cone bra. Yeah, it was easy to tell who used the campus laundry. They were the ones gingerly walking as if they had ridden a horse for the past eight hours in jeans with the snazzy and sharp creases. I don’t think the story about the guy using his creased jeans leg as a knife to cut his steak is true. At least I hope it isn’t true. With my thoughts on new urban legends, I patiently waited in line until I could retrieve my clothes encased in their plain brown wrappers. Finally Randy and I retrieved our clothes and could return to our dorm.

As we walked back to our dorm, I couldn’t help but notice the pretty girl in front of us walking in the same direction. Since the student ratio is 18 men for every female; I tend to notice good-looking women even more than usual when at school. It was a beautiful day, and the scenery was spectacular; neither of us felt compelled to walk any faster. Being that close to a pretty coed must have been Mark’s inspiration. Suddenly, as we approached our dorm, we could hear the sound of a window being hurriedly opened and a voice call out "Hey Randy! Drop your drawers and spread your cheeks!"

I could see the girl’s neck and ears turning red with embarrassment as she quickened her pace. Randy had an immediate response. With a theatrical flourish he dropped his bundle of fresh laundry upon the ground and grabbed his cheeks, pulling them away from his face. I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing. Everyone up in the dorm, watching for the big embarrassment, broke out in peals of laughter as well. There were so many people laughing so loud that the girl in front of us stopped and turned around. When she saw what Randy was doing she began to laugh as well. Mark’s prank may not have worked but it resulted in one of the funniest jokes of my life. The day was really starting to shape up well.