I squinted at the slip of pink paper that was neatly wedged under the windshield wiper of the big blue truck in front of me. With a wave of my hand, I directed them to park near the other vehicles marked with pink slips. The sun was glaring off of anything and everything including my pink glasses. I raised the megaphone to my lips and made my last call for all vehicles numbered through 70, laid down my things and headed over to island of RAs who were handing out these slips of paper. I took a spot in the middle of the road next to 3West and between car loads of freshmen we danced and discussed which freshmen were cutest.

“Did you know that it was 78 degrees when I woke up at 5:45 this morning?” I asked 3West while we were taking a break.

Now during move-in day, a break in the commuter lot is not having to stand on the asphalt. 3West and I were lolling on the sidewalk, trying not to move more than entirely necessary when our boss’ voice came crackling over the walkie-talkie. After asking for the status reports, she joked with us about the heat.

“It’s because we’re roasting the two of you. We’re actually having you for lunch,” she joked.

It was then that I let rip a pseudo-tortured ”no” into the walkie-talkie followed by an “this is the end of the world!” My boss and I laughed over that until I turned around only to find a sweet old man staring at me out of his van that was bedecked with a blue slip of paper.

I cleared my throat before trying to talk in a dignified manner, “Eaton will park after the trees and in the front half of the lot.”

No sooner had this van pulled off, than I was rolling in the cool shaded grass on what has proven to be an intolerably long day.