Aug. 23, 2021
Dear Diary,
Today turned out to be the worst day of my life.
To think I dreamed of how perfect this day would be: posting pictures of my Pinterest-inspired dorm room, taking family photos outside of college buildings and no one crying, annoyed or absent.
How naive.
Hurricane Henri struck on my move-in day, delaying my flight and making everything hectic. I was alone from the moment I stepped into the airport. Having quit her job as a nurse due to trauma caused by the pandemic, my mom couldn’t afford to come with me.
My plane landed at 11 a.m., but I successfully reached the College at 2 p.m. Yes, the airline lost my luggage. Yes, I cried — for what would be just the first time that day. Oh, and they found the luggage two hours later.
My Uber dropped me off at the testing center. Big mistake. The College had overestimated how “walkable” this campus was and my dorm is apparently far away from everything. The blue cart that held my belongings became my personal enemy. After finally getting all the boxes into it by myself, I tripped and fell into the cart. Without my family, I had to depend on the seniors who helped me get a ride to my dorm. I cried a second time.
In my room, I proceeded to wipe everything with disinfectant and made a hand sanitizer station right by the door. Necessities for college move-in during a pandemic. I carried all my packages from the mail center in the rain, looking like a drowned rat. I cried for the final time.
By the time I was done arranging my room, it was time for dinner. My room wasn’t pretty. I did not take a picture. My eyes were still puffy from crying. One could say I had experienced an irony of my own fantasy.
— Cynthia Akanaga ’25