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KANKANHALLI | Not Clickbait: My Apartment Tried to Kill Me
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I’m a junior now, and as such, I am informally obligated to live off campus or die an outcast. Luckily, this is a mandate that I’m thrilled to obey — I will sacrifice communal bathrooms and an utter lack of privacy if it benefits the system. So, four months ago, I voluntarily signed a lease for a three-bedroom apartment, as one does when one is craving a real taste of adulthood — electricity bills, trash days, grocery shopping, the whole affair. We’d toured the unit, and it seemed, from an outsider’s perspective, to satisfy. With a debatable mastery over the art of timeliness and a lingering fondness for O-Week, I arrived at Cornell long before necessary.