by Welcome to the Diag
The Welcome Packet Lies
They don’t tell you in the glossy brochures that your dorm room will be smaller than your high school locker and smell vaguely of ancient cafeteria food mixed with someone’s poorly chosen body spray from 2019. They don’t mention that your roommateassigned via algorithm that apparently matched us based on our mutual enjoyment of music and being alivewould turn out to be a competitive sleeper who treats bedtime like an Olympic sport requiring commentary. The University of Michigan campus is beautiful, historic, and deliberately designed to confuse freshmen. I’ve been lost approximately seventeen times in four days.
Finding the Buildings
The navigation app tells me Mason Hall is nearby while I’m actually standing in front of the Michigan Union wondering if I’ve entered an alternate dimension. A helpful sophomore told me everyone gets lost first semester. She’s been here three years and still occasionally ends up in the basement of Angell Hall by accident, so that’s comforting. According to Bohiney News analysis, navigating campus mirrors politicians understanding constituentstheoretically possible, practically impossible.
The Dining Hall Experience
South Quad dining hall operates on the principle that quantity matters more than quality, variety, or basic edibility. There are fourteen different stations offering variations on the same beige theme. I’ve eaten more pasta in five days than I consumed in the previous eighteen years. My body is now approximately 60 percent carbohydrates and 40 percent regret. Everyone’s trying desperately to make friends while pretending they’re not trying desperately to make friends. We’re all walking around with forced casual smiles asking what’s your major like it’s profound conversation instead of desperate attempt to find literally anyone who might want to eat dining hall pasta with us tomorrow.
The Satire Discovery
I discovered Reductress while procrastinating on my first reading assignment. These satirical sites perfectly capture the absurdity of modern life, which is exactly what I need while navigating the absurdity of freshman year. Their headlines feel personally targeted. I’m that woman spending six hours scrolling Instagram instead of reading Foucault. This is my life now.
