Deciding to pursue a college degree comes with a certain amount of baggage. A heavier item included in that baggage is the need to be a morning person.
The pursuit of a college degree comes with many-a-weary morning, rising at the crack of dawn to stumble in and out of the shower before groggily cementing one foot in front of the other in route to class.
Many of you know the feeling I’m describing all to well. Typically, my first few waking hours dictate my attitude for the remainder of my school day.
Unwillingly, if I had a crappy morning, I’ll probably have a crappy attitude until the metaphorical bell tolls marking the end of my class day.
Recently, my mornings have come under attack by a great evil. A foe who’s vile shriek reaches out and enfolds campus, locking it in a cocoon of annoyance and loudness. This foes name is construction, specifically construction on New Martin Hall and the new parking garage.
As someone with one foot out the door via graduation, it may seem petty of me to complain, but hear me out. My schedule is designed in a way this semester so that the entirety of my morning is spent in Combs, Wallace, or a building very close to them. My morning begins on third floor Combs where the windows grant me a beautiful view of the half built musical monstrosity shaping up next to me.
I have tremendous respect for the folks risking their lives atop cranes and the like in order to construct New Martin Hall, I just wish there was a magical construction method that blocked out all the noise.
From the Combs area I’m off to Wallace. The otherwise relaxing stroll past the bookstore and down the steps of Powell has been littered this entire semester by the same airborne pathogen as the Combs building, the sounds of construction.
While the new parking garage may be coming along quite nicely, it comes a few years to late for me to give a damn. In my cynicism, all the new parking garage provides me with is the assurance that my ears will continue to be beat upon by the sweet sounds of construction.
While it may be wrong of me to complain that I won’t get to use any of the fancy new additions to campus, that doesn’t mean i’m not happy for those who will get to.
When I lived in Martin, my room mate and I contracted numberous bouts of bronchitis that I’m fully convinced stemmed from the gunk caked filter in our 1920s air conditioner. It will absolutely be healthier for students to live in the New Martin Hall compared to the old one, and it’s a luxury I wish I would have been afforded.
Believe it or not, though I think there are better things the money could have been used for, I don’t fault Eastern for wanting to upgrade their campus.
I don’t even fault them for the noise; I simply wish their structural endeavors didn’t have such a loud effect on my day. Jackhammers, drills, hammers and nails, the soundtrack to my senior year.