First years excited to move out, now have no money, joy left

By Claire Donoghue and Andrea Josic

Mollie Rey thought university was promising because she would gain the freedom that so many people crave, until she was struck with the existential dread and financial burden of adulthood.

“I was having a good time in the beginning,” says the first-year sociology student. Going to parties without worrying about a curfew felt great, but keeping up with her bills has depleted Rey of all joy.

“I miss sitting in a small dorm room with 15 sweaty 18-year-olds and passing out after two Smirnoff Ices. Life was great before midterms,” she says.

Although living alone is expensive, Ryerson ever so graciously provides free condoms around campus. Rey used to use the free condoms at the front desk of Pitman Hall as balloons for her dorm’s weekly parties. Now she just uses them to decorate her living room—one of the mindfulness tactics she uses to try and remind herself that every day should be a celebration of life.

First-year engineering student Lusinmy Mynd admits that they’ve stopped throwing parties after their last party went awry.

“Partying and alcohol are expensive, especially as an engineering major. I was having fun until I threw a party and shit hit the fan. My fridge was raided and I broke my only table after I fell into it during a keg stand,” said Mynd. 

Toronto has one of the highest costs of living in Canada which makes it difficult for students like Mynd to allocate money towards miscellaneous purchases, like furniture.

Mynd admits he exclusively shops at Dollarama. “I bought a bunch of placemats, stacked them on top of one another and, chef’s kiss, a new table.”

Pleaz Halp, a fourth-year business student and former Thursday to Saturday night partier, had to quit partying and curate an aesthetically-pleasing rooftopping Instagram to help pay for school and living expenses.

Halp once tried to calculate the loss of hope in relation to the increase in student debt over the course of one school year. He said he opened his bank account, but proceeded to stare at his credit card statement for 10 minutes, then threw his phone off the roof of the Ted Rogers School of Management building.