Uh oh! Your room is on fire. As in, actively crashing and burning like your last situationship. Your room is on fire in a “the Cambridge Fire Department is outside your window at 2:11 am” kind of way. So that’s not great.

No need to panic, though! I mean, I definitely would, but you shouldn’t, because we’ve come up with a foolproof, totally tried-and-true method to make it through an unfortunate dorm fire, with minimal emotional damage.

Step 1: Denial

An unconventional first step, I know, but smoke is subjective. Take a moment to stand there and ask yourself if this is really going to be a problem that you can get an extension from your TF for, or if it’s not that deep. Or just stand outside dear old Randy like that one girl side-eying her burning house in everyone’s favorite meme. Life imitates art, right?

Step 2: Attempt to problem solve

You got into Harvard for a reason, right? Surely this is easier to figure out than that Chem 27 midterm. Some potential solutions you can try include blowing on the fire, staring at it, pouring half your Owala directly onto it, etc. Yelling for your roommates to help or sourcing from Chat (both Side and GPT, we don’t judge) are also options, though the pressure in the moment is hot.

Step 3: Protect what matters

Once you realize your solution pales in comparison to the growing bonfire that used to be your Twin XL mattress, you’re going to have to make some difficult decisions. Not about safety, but what to save — your laptop (at 12% battery), your favorite hoodie, or that book you pretend to read at Faro. It’s time to consider which of your items define your entire personality (you consumerist slime) and which ones you can live with becoming ash. Maybe leave that Weld Field Day shirt from freshman year behind…

Step 4: Control the narrative

If you’re embarrassed… I mean, yeah. At this point, your main priority should be saving face and taking control of the narrative if you want any chance of getting Sidechat off your case. Immediately begin giving slightly different explanations to different people. Candle. Outlet. Rogue squirrel and pyrotechnics. “I actually don’t even know.”

Step 5: MAKE. CONTENT.

Be serious. You don’t get moments like this twice. Get a blurry video, post it with a vague caption of “?????” and DO NOT FORGET to add a #harvard. Farm that Sidechat karma. This could be your chance to become a Harvard influencer, and you simply cannot pass it up. This also works as a form of insurance. How else will you be able to email the House Administrator an itemized list of your destroyed valuables? We’re looking out for you!

Step 6: Reflect (barely)

As firefighters put out the fire you attempted to solve with vibes alone, you may experience a brief moment of mental clarity. You may even wonder if this could have been avoided. Maybe a candlelit study session for the dark academia core was a bad idea. Or perhaps those six extension cords were overkill.

Put this thought away immediately. There is time for growth later.

Step 7: Evolve
By tomorrow, the fire will be out, your downstairs neighbors will put out a hit on you on the House mailing list, and your room will be… conceptually intact. You, however, will have entered a new era as “the one whose room caught on fire.” This will come up in sections (“Sorry I’m late—long story”), at meals (“Oh my god, it was your room?”), and in completely unrelated conversations at every reunion. Hopefully, you got those extensions, though. Take care, our beloved acorns. Seriously, though.