With the transition to college came a lot of changes, most notably the addition of a roomate. I’d shared a room with my sister when I was younger, but beyond 3rd or 4th grade I have always had my own space. Now you might assume the biggest adjustment would be the shared space, the question of when to turn the overhead light off, or the uncertainty about what is and isn’t shared. But you would assume wrong. Because ask a sampling of freshman girls with random roommates, and you’re bound to hear one of them tell you that the true struggle comes with determining when it’s not weird to change in the same room.

Sure, at first you think “hey, we’re going to live together, it’s a small room, it won’t be weird to change in front of each other, that’s the least of my worries.” But then you move into a small room with someone you’ve never met before in your life and know very little about and, in any other situation, it’s weird to undress then and there. Eventually though, one of you bites the bullet and from there on out it isn’t weird anymore.

So if you can so quickly become comfortable in front of a stranger, one would think the same could be said for someone who is, say, not even a person. Like maybe, for example, a dog?

You’d be wrong again.

At least, according to one girl sitting in the lobby of Earle hall talking with her friends.

“You change in front of your dog?! I don’t!”

See, here’s the thing: As much as I got a good chuckle out of hearing it spoken aloud, I’m in the same boat. I’ll admit it, I don’t change in front of my dog. I don’t know why; there’s no logical reason really. It just seems weird. He just sits there on my bed and he’s looking at me and for some reason I just don’t want him there so I politely shoo him out of the room until I’m done and then allow him back in. I only have this problem with one of my dogs, because the other one pretty much runs out of the room every morning as soon as she hears my mom. Regardless, I understand what this girl was going through.

For reference, here is the little dog in question. He’s not doing anything wrong, he’s just living his life. But for some reason unbeknownst to me, it feels weird. So yes, girl in lobby, I laughed when you yelled it out loud in the middle of the day as if it was some wild idea that someone would change in front of their day. Maybe I laughed, but maybe I also felt a little bit reassured that I wasn’t the only one who felt this way.

(also for your own enjoyment, here’s the dog that leaves every morning and does not force me to face my daily dilemma:)