Guilty Pleasure Rant (?)

 The Harsh Realities of Uni & Hostel Life: A Rant (That I’ll Never Stop Ranting About)

If you think university life is about freedom, self-growth, and making unforgettable memories, I regret to inform you that you’ve been scammed. The only thing I’m growing is resentment, and the only memories I’m making are ones I’ll be trauma-dumping about for the rest of my life. I will never shut up about this. Ever.

My Hostel Is Slowly Ruining Me (Send Help)

First, let’s discuss curfews. Because apparently, being a legal adult in university means having the same level of freedom as a 12-year-old grounded for bad grades. Oh, you want to go out? Touch some grass? Maybe even, I don’t know, go to a gym like a normal human being? Nope. You better be back by 4:45 PM or prepare to be treated like a criminal. At this point, I wouldn’t be surprised if I needed a permission slip just to breathe outside. I swear, actual prisoners have more freedom than this.

And speaking of the gym I MISS IT. I used to work out. I was getting stronger, my body was toned, fit, and thriving. Now? It’s all gone. My progress? Erased. My energy levels? Nonexistent. I feel weak, sluggish, and just wrong. Every morning, I wake up knowing that if I wasn’t stuck in this hostel, I’d be lifting weights, getting stronger, and actually feeling like myself. But instead, I’m stuck here, watching my muscles evaporate like my will to live.

Food? More Like a Nutritional Crime Scene

Now, let’s talk about the absolute tragedy that is hostel food. If there’s a circle of hell specifically for bad food, I’m convinced our menu was written by Satan himself. Bland? Check. Repetitive? Check. Nutritionally useless? Absolutely.

I used to eat protein-rich, balanced meals, taking care of my body, feeling strong and healthy. Now? I eat purely out of obligation. Food has lost all meaning. At this point, I wouldn’t even be surprised if I started photosynthesizing out of desperation.

And let’s not forget the skin disaster. My glow? Gone. My clear skin? A distant memory. My body is actively rebelling against hostel life, and honestly? I don’t blame it. I’d rebel too if I were being fed boiled sadness three times a day.

The Workload That Never Ends (Or Lets Me Sleep)

As if my physical health wasn’t already in shambles, let’s not forget that architecture is a 24/7 stress machine. There’s always something due, always something to work on, always another project waiting to drain whatever energy I have left. Sleep? A luxury. Relaxation? A myth. Peace? Never heard of her.

If I’m not working on a scale drawing, a BMR project, or a model, I’m thinking about my online courses, my future PhD plans, my portfolio, the list NEVER ENDS. And yet, people still have the audacity to say, “Enjoy university life!” Oh, I am enjoying it, alright I’m enjoying collecting trauma, exhaustion, and an undying hatred for hostel living.

I’m Never Going to Stop Complaining About This (And You Can’t Stop Me)

The only thing keeping me going is knowing that next year, I’ll move out. I’ll join a gym, fix my diet, heal my skin, rebuild my strength, and finally feel like a functional human being again. But until then? I will rant. I will complain. I will NEVER stop talking about how miserable hostel life is.

If you ever hear me go off about this again, just know that I mean every word, and I’ll keep saying it until the day I finally escape.