November 17, 2009:
Your new dorm room is a suite: tiny rooms the size of walk-in closets cramped with old bookshelves and cardboard shipping boxes from amazon.com. Those bookshelves are from home: very ancient particleboard once owned by your mother. She says, "I'll clean this up for you," but you snap, "No! Get out!" You soften as she begins to weep. "No, that came out wrong. I meant to say, it's important to me to tidy up for myself."