Generally speaking, I am not a very lucky person. I don’t win raffles, have never had a winning scratch ticket, and am still waiting to hear back from multiple online contests to win trips to Hawaii.
With this in mind, I was very nervous to enter the infamous sophomore housing lottery (cue fog machine, dark lighting, and ominous sounds of thunder).
For sophomore year, groups that wish to live together register online in mid-March and receive a number that dictates their rank when choosing housing. A low number indicates first preference, and a higher number indicates that you probably won’t have as many options. Or for all of you ~math people~ out there, the likelihood of you getting your first choice in housing is negatively correlated with your lottery number.
Seems like a simple, rational, and completely objective process, right?
Last night was the fateful night for the class of 2017, with lottery numbers scheduled to be released at 5 pm. As soon as the clock hit 5:00, everyone in my 4:30-5:15 lecture began frantically checking their phones, laptops, and Google glasses to see if their fate had been sealed yet.
At 5:05pm, there was still no word.
At 5:10pm, my class got out still nothing on the housing front.
At 5:12pm, en route to the FFC, my friend Jackie received her lucky number of 25.
At 5:13pm, I received word that my group got 208. This is a pretty decent number, though my relief was momentarily overshadowed by my jealousy of Jackie.
Upon walking into the FFC, I thought I was standing on the trading floor of the New York Stock Exchange. People were yelling numbers across tables, comforting friends who thought they would be living in a broom closet, and perfecting the humble-brag if their number was desirable.
Seeing as this is the number one research institution in the country, it should come as no surprise that after receiving a number, most people delved deeply into researching their probable housing options. I know people who in the past 24 hours have memorized floor plans, made spreadsheets and pro/con lists, and mapped walking routes from Homewood to Bloomberg to help make the best decision possible.
Starting later this week, the groups will go one-by-one in order of number to pick their rooms off the list (and steal the quad in Commons that I have my eye on), so cross your fingers that numbers 1-207 all choose Homewood, Bradford, or McCoy.
And in the spirit of The Hunger Games, may the housing odds be ever in my your favor.