In the heart of the pandemic-induced lockdown, the air was thick with anticipation as public universities across the country announced the date for the resumption of school activities. That morning, the news buzzed on my phone, its cheerful announcement bringing mixed emotions – a relief to return to the university and a silent wish for the resumption date to be postponed.
Amidst the uncertainty, the looming concern about the state of my dorm room haunted my thoughts. Months of abandonment had surely left it in a very unpleasant state. A week before the official resumption date, I mustered the courage to confront the unknown.
Gift, my close friend and neighbour, provided the first glimpse into the post-apocalyptic landscape of our dormitory. A phone call from him painted a vivid picture of cobwebbed jungles and rodent kingdoms, which only solidified my own anxieties.
But procrastination, like an unwelcome roommate, had overstayed its welcome. Armed with cleaning supplies and a healthy dose of self-doubt, It was time to face the music and clean up my room.
The door creaked open after much hesitation, revealing a scene not as bad as my imagination had painted. Relief, like a breath of fresh air, washed over me. Sure, the room was undeniably dirty, draped in dust and cobwebs, but it wasn't the biohazard zone I conjured in my mind. Perhaps the thoughts of it being overtaken by animals were exaggerated.
Gift materialized in the doorway, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Not as bad as mine, but still a lot of work for one person," he declared.
A sigh escaped my lips. "Where do I even begin?”
“Move everything out! Just as me and Collins did, bring out everything. A clean slate for a clean start.”
"That is what I'm thinking as well," I replied, surveying the room cluttered with memories and neglect.
Before leaving, I asked Gift for his assistance in moving my desk out, setting the tone for a day of physical and emotional labour. As I emptied my room, a rat problem unveiled itself; evidence of an uninvited guest that had made itself at home in my absence.
Shredded books, bodily functions, and a bizarre attempt to devour a bar of soap marked the rodent's presence. Suddenly, a flash of brown darted across the floor, disappearing into the depths of my wardrobe. My shriek, heroically stifled, betrayed my momentary terror.
Armed with a broom and a mop handle, I declared war on the furry intruder. A tense standoff ensued, which saw the daredevil rodent running towards me, before making a strategic escape through the open door, a clean gateway!
Putting the rodent incident behind me, I resumed my mission. Starting with the wardrobe, navigating through the kitchen, main room, and concluding in the bathroom, I conquered the mess bit by bit, each cleaned surface feeling like a victory, the grime giving way to a forgotten gleam.
By the time the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the floor, exhaustion had set in. My arms ached, my back protested, but a sense of accomplishment bloomed in my chest. After hours of effort, the dorm room underwent a miraculous transformation.
Sure, the curtains still needed attention, as well as the once-red rug that had morphed into a shade of brown, resembling a relic from the dust ages. But those were battles for another day. For now, I had conquered the most formidable foe; my own inertia.
What began as a daunting task unfolded into a surprisingly enjoyable experience, accompanied by the rhythm of music blasting from my portable Bluetooth speaker. As I surveyed my handiwork, I knew that even the most daunting tasks, like tackling a neglected dorm room, were conquerable, one determined sweep at a time.
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