Squirreling around: When we all fall asleep, where do squirrels go?

Laney Green, Staff Writer

Saturday, Feb. 13

It’s getting late. If I were home my parents would kill me for being out this close to curfew. I guess there’s perks of living on a college campus: no parents and no curfew. 

I’m getting tired though. My eyelids grow heavy and quiver with deepening breaths. I promised some friends we would stay out tonight. I’m still new here, but apparently there’s this place called Cabana that gets pretty exciting late at night. They were supposed to meet me over thirty minutes ago and now looking down from the branch I’m perched on, the grass has never seemed so soft and inviting. I could easily climb down and curl up… “Hey, wake up!” My buddies are here.

We scamper across the desolate campus as I ask concerned question after concerned question. We already had the COVID talk and I know they wish I would stop bringing it up. It’s just so awkward that everyone’s still on different pages about the restrictions. Either way, they’ve finally had enough and stop responding. I don’t want to be the one lame friend that can’t rally, but I’m so tired. The guilt from not starting any homework has also begun to set in. My decisions are starting to feel overtly taboo. 

We finally made it to the door and were immediately bounced out. Apparently the DJ for the night hadn’t been following protocols and was spitting more than just sick beats. I was able to shrug it off, but I know my friends were pretty bummed. They’ve been buzzing about this opportunity for weeks just craving fun and the prospect of normalcy. 


Saturday, Feb. 20

On the other paw, this week I had the craziest college experience yet. I almost got trapped. Like trapped-trapped, the kind of incident you see in movies. I completely lost track of time on one of my assignments. I was supposed to bring an acorn to class to dissect and because of the ice storm I completely blanked. In the midst of my dilemma I happened to spy the perfect nut in a prestigious looking cubed box with an acorn stamped seal. I went for it. 


With my body in overdrive working faster than my mind, I ended up lurching into some biped’s dorm room window. I snapped out of it about halfway through the room when I noticed the persons inhabiting the space staring at me, frozen and puzzled. I retraced my way back through the open window just as their Snapchat videos timed out. I decided to celebrate my win of continued freedom and take the L on my acorn grade. 

~ a Linfield squirrel