The Dangers of Spanish Opera

I've recently delved back into my CD of Spanish music (Lalo, Rodrigo, Turino, Arriaga, de Falla, and Granados), and it is very dangerous, especially when it's raining - one more round of the Los Esclaves overture and I'll be reaching for my castanets. Fortunately, I've been busy packing for college. It's rather hard to balance between being prepared and being psychotic. I mean, how many pairs of socks should I take? Should I take both my ELS quilt and the quilt my great-grandmother made? What will my roommate think of my colour scheme? What's the point of a dorm room anyway? Can't I just string a hammock between two trees and call it good?
I can hear you raising your eyebrows, and I know what thought is foremost in your mind. It's not, "What if it rains?" Nor is it, "Where would you plug in your electric toothbrush?" It's more along these lines:
You have a colour scheme?
Good question. Of course I have a colour scheme. It's not as narrow as some people's, either. It's more of the red-yellow-blue-green-white-pink variety, with a heavy emphasis on green. If I learned anything in the laundry room - excuse me, I meant the Textiles Maintenance Facilitation Headquarters - it's that colour matters. I took down most of my decorations on the last Friday of camp, not expecting to spend much more time in there, and when I had to do some last-minute Textiles Maintaining on Sunday, it nearly drove me round the bend. The walls were white, the cupboards (sans calendar) were white, the floor (sans floormat) was the dingy grey of concrete which has probably never been mopped in its life (and was certainly never mopped properly that summer), the dryers no longer had their cheerily coloured skirts of leftover valances, and I had nowhere to sit except an upturned milk crate which completely lacked the comfortable charm of the folding camp chair I had been using all summer. Add to that the fact that I had already packed all of my reading material into the car and was faced with reading either the label on the bleach bottle ("Probable mucosal damage may contraindicate the use of gastric lavage") or a dog-eared copy of Machiavelli's The Prince, left in the cupboard by a former occupant, and you have a laundry girl with a very bad attitude indeed.Needless to say, I learned from that experience, and I plan to be comfortable at college. Yes, I'm on the noisiest floor in the dorm, but I plan to be warm, dry, and within easy reach of interesting reading material.
And maybe a little Spanish opera too.