“Tut tut, looks like rain,” I said to my roommate while preparing to venture out in what I thought was just another slight drizzle. I grabbed my small, slightly dysfunctional umbrella and headed out of the dorm room.

The moment I stepped out of those double doors, I realized that I might as well have left that pathetic piece of bright pink nylon taffeta in my room, because it did absolutely nothing against the torrential downpour that hit me from approximately 50 different directions. <br/>I trudged miserably across campus, getting poked by several bullying umbrellas in the process. I trudged miserably across campus, getting poked by several bullying umbrellas in the process.
I trudged miserably across campus, getting poked by several bullying umbrellas in the process.

My flip-flops slipped and slopped as I walked through the raging rivers that had formed on the sidewalk.

My jeans soaked up about three gallons of water a minute, and by the time I turned onto the welcoming walkway in front of Case Hall, I resembled something similar to a wet poodle and Dr. Seuss' ever-depressed Lorax. And I'm not trying to be dramatic.<br/>An hour later, I steeled myself to step out into the rain consisting of mammoths and dinosaurs falling from the sky once again. An hour later, I steeled myself to step out into the rain consisting of mammoths and dinosaurs falling from the sky once again.
An hour later, I steeled myself to step out into the rain consisting of mammoths and dinosaurs falling from the sky once again.

My books were sustaining some pretty severe water-damage, despite being in my $60 backpack, the fingers uselessly clutching my umbrella were transforming into blocks of ice around the skimpy piece of metal and I began to swear to myself that the next time the weather even faintly resembled what I was experiencing, I would come down with a mysterious ailment that would force me to stay in bed and wonderfully dry. <br/>My ancestors may have traveled over oceans, and trekked across unknown land, but apparently, I am not made of the same material. My ancestors may have traveled over oceans, and trekked across unknown land, but apparently, I am not made of the same material.
My ancestors may have traveled over oceans, and trekked across unknown land, but apparently, I am not made of the same material.

So I devised something of a plan.

On those dreary, wretched days that make even eight minutes outside feel like the seventh circle of hell, we could simply have campus-wide video conferencing sessions from the comfort of our own beds. It can be the Baker version of those blissfully memorable snow days of our yesteryears.

Sure there might be a few problems, seeing as I know quite a few people who are still unable to access any other online resources, but I ardently believe that it would greatly add to our quality of life.

We don’t neglect the learning that this wonderful institution offers us, but we often suffer the pathetic head cold that usually follows a day of sitting in wet clothing