I trudge out to the lounge in my residence hall and take in a deep breath. Ah, finals season. That means 24-hour quiet hours. I can sleep, I can fight! But, I can’t sleep. Why? Unlike most people, it’s not the stress of passing my finals. I am at that point in the year where I could pass or fail my finals. Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn (until I fail a final, then I give a damn). No, my stress is being drawn from the annual June event, and it’s not the Festas Juninas@@http://www.suapesquisa.com/musicacultura/historia_festa_junina.htm@@ either. It’s moving out of the residence halls.
With each day being ticked off of Dead Week, we are inching closer to what can only be described as Move-out-ageddon. Parents, friends, and relatives will be traveling to Eugene from all corners of the country. They will travel by land, sea, and air. Although some are already among us, the bulk will be storming the castle next Thursday and Friday. All will come with the mission operative to strip each and every dorm room, cabinet and desk shelf of its possessions. I know what you’re thinking: Finals Week is Hell enough, now we have to arm ourselves against the parental figures? Might as well release the zombies we all know are being stashed in the basement lab of the science complex!
Relax. Housing has the answer.
Just like the Allied Powers took months to carefully craft Operation: D-Day so has Housing crafted a plan to control the masses of parents who will be arriving in their screaming metal death traps commonly referred to as cars. Behold! Operation: Flying Duck. It’s carefully crafted to be the closest thing to an Imperius curse while still being forgivable. They’ve constructed maps for parking, bins for donating unwanted possessions and red and blue pill options for check-out.
But, that doesn’t ease my headache over the matter. Despite Housing’s attempts to make a smooth move-out operation, it still remains Move-out-ageddon. Think about it: there are roughly 3,700 people living in the dorms. Roughly a quarter of them will be done before closing time, so that leaves … three-quarters of the residence hall population to leave on Friday. You can figure out on your own how many people that is; just know it’s a really big number. The streets will be crammed, parking spaces filled, and people not moving out of the dorms will become frustrated with people moving out of the dorms and vice versa. If that’s not enough to give you a headache, toss in closures due to Olympic Trials plus 24-hour quiet hours (a blessing and a curse!) and we’ve got a good ol’ fashioned nightmare on our hands. Time for Excedrin? I think so.
I won’t even touch on driving versus flying. Both have their pros and cons. Driving eliminates the worry to find storage for things like mini fridges, but copious amounts of time in a car playing I Spy will get old fast. Planes take less time, but trying to find unique ways of stuff all the crap acquired over the year is like trying to guess what’s in my pocket (a ring).
I’m sure I painted this picture that looks like an exploding TARDIS, but in all reality, Operation: Flying Duck is carried out each year. Moving out of the residence halls may cause headaches, but so did moving in. When we look at the remains of the day, we can say we’re not ever going to live in the dorms again and will not have to deal with Move-out-ageddon again (unless you’re going to live in the dorms again). And when we’re done re-packing the quack, we can all head down to Burger King for those new crispy chicken snack wraps!
Until then, may the Force be with you.