The date was February 23, 2004; waking up at 8am for class was every college student's nightmare. My roommate Veronica's eyes were still half shut, my vision blurred, and her hand still numb from sleeping on it all night long. Somehow she built up enough strength to swing her hand softly to tap the snooze button on my loud alarm clock in hopes for the alarm never to sound again.
Seven minutes later, waking again to the most annoying buzzing sound on earth. The plan failed, the alarm didn't break, and is now buzzing boisterously straight in her ears. The air in the room was probably a chill 40 degrees, the heater not running, and the outside cold just soaking in through the windows. Not wanting to leave her bed because it's so warm and soft, she rolled off the bed hoping not to smash her face off the floor on the landing.
As Veronica slowly arose from the floor all she felt was cold, still not able to see straight she stumbles into the heap of clothing beside my dresser. She slipped on the damp shoes from last night's shower and headed to the bathroom. As she walked threw the crowed hall, Veronica bumped shoulders and exchanged dirty faces with our neighbors. Still not familiar with the whole concept of light, she walked into the bathroom when she got a rude awakening from the lights on the mirrors and ceiling. At that time it was just like looking into a spotlight. Now squinting she did his morning deeds, and headed back to the room.
She came to our room, and saw that I was already awake and readdy to go off to class. So Veronica started to fix his tangled bed, then...