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PAUL GUNSAULUS WAS A HELL OF A GUY.
Truly, a stand-up gentleman. Today I am proud to say I live in his namesake hall, in a studio apartment all by my lonesome. For the first time in 20 years, I have a(n above-ground) toilet all to myself. It’s a dream come true. I have my own stove and oven, sink, and full-size fridge. I have 4 bookcases, 2 desks, a loveseat, 2 chairs, 2 dressers, and 2 beds.
I don’t know what the hell to do with any of it. But I’ve made some pretty good progress and the space is livable now. By livable, I mean I’ve hooked up my Sega Genesis and maneuvered the air-conditioner to point towards the couch.
In another few days, RA training will be upon us and I will stumble back up to the 5th floor of Gunsaulus Hall, bruised and beaten, to pass out on the loveseat and heal for the night. After that, there will be only school.
The Lyric Opera, folks, has asked me to not leave. More on what that all means later.
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