Today was the first official day the House accepted early arrivals. But the fact of the matter is, we’ve been taking people on board everyday for the past week, perhaps longer. (Actually, I don’t know this for certain. I do know that I let at least six desperate upperclassmen in yesterday.)
Housing is a funny thing around here. Towards the end of the summer everything runs scarce. Money is harder to come by, forcing an artificial shortage of food. Likewise, subletters return home, casting poor, unassuming upperclassmen onto the streets. That is, unless they can make their way back into the Houses.
So they swarm like hyenas around a sickly lion cub. Each knows that he couldn’t pick off the cub on his own; the adult lions wouldn’t allow it. But as soon as Paul steps out, wham! I can’t pass out keys fast enough.
Remind me to redraft the section I ripped off from Roe on Dirac operators before I submit a copy of my thesis this weekend to Cliff, who tells me that Potsdam is probably not the type of place I’d like to go for postgraduate study. I don’t know, the Einstein Institute does have Einstein in its name. That’s got to count for something, right?
