An Ode to Lamont’s Third Floor

Dear Lamont Third Floor,

Every week, when the Sunday Scaries roll around, I know that I can count on you to be there for me. You’ve seen me at my (rare) Lamont Highs, and my many, many Lamont Lows. Your warm, dim lighting is like a hug, even though I risk the chance of falling asleep on one of your couches and finding myself waking up at 6 a.m. with my p-sets incomplete. I also really love being surrounded by books that I want to read but somehow can’t manage to find the time for.

There’s a certain camaraderie that I find with others within your walls. When the night first started, we were merely strangers. But as the night progresses and our sanity begins to wane, we find a form of mutual respect for one another. I love walking around and sympathizing with fellow Lamonsters through understanding nods and collective sighs. What can I say? Misery loves its company.

But what I love most about you, Lamont third floor, is your quietness. You are the perfect place to escape from the noise and chaos of campus life. You are the place where I can find peace and tranquility in the midst of deadlines and stress.

You are also open 24 hours for most of the week, which admittedly is both a blessing and a curse. On one hand, I appreciate that you are always there for me, no matter how late or how early. On the other hand, I sometimes wish that you would close earlier so that I would have an excuse to go to bed and get some sleep. But I know that you are only doing your best to accommodate my needs.

Lamont, you are more than just a place to study. You have turned into a sanctuary, a haven, and, unfortunately, a second home.

Thank you, Lamont, for being my loyal companion and friend. I hope to see you again soon – but not too soon.

Sincerely,

A grateful Lamonster