Half the time I walk into my room, I’m lucky if I make eye contact with the carpet. The typical, messy dorm room tends to follow many college kids from residence hall to apartment complex and sometimes even after you move beyond campus, into the so-called real world. Having a not so squeaky-clean reputation myself, I’ve come to learn a few tell-tale signs to recognize when your room is past its expiration date for a dust job or two. So without completely giving away how ignorant I am of Windex, here are eight signs you need to wade through that sea of T-shirts on the floor and clean your room.

• When your television screen is so covered in dust that for one moment you actually believe that time travel was made possible, and you’re in 1950 in front of an old black and white (clearly, I have a problem with dust).
• When your friend with a mild case of allergies is prevented from crossing the threshold of your room due to that grey fog that mysteriously has found its way to permeate every inch on every wall. You still don’t know what it is.
• When your carpet is black and blue from sleet and snow, and you’ve forgotten that that’s not what it looked like at semester’s start. Monica would so not approve (and I’m sure not even Joey would be able to understand that).
• When there are more cans of Diet Coke lying on the floor than pairs of dirty shoes. Recall the concept of a trash can.
• When your parents come to visit, and your mom looks at your bed, uttering the words: “hospital corners.” You’re certain there’s been a terrible accident (or just plain confused).
• When the layer of dust on your computer screen is so thick that your ability to type correctly becomes impaired. E-mailing your teacher with multiple typos won’t help your grades, but rather only reinforce that D on your midterm.
• When your laundry basket rivals Mount Everest, and the strongest bottle of Febreeze can’t mask the scent of the ARC and Dos Reales (realize that salsa does stain and will smell).
• When you can use the mold swimming in your dirty bowls of ramen stacked in the sink to practice memorizing statistics equations. Nobody wants to know that Z=value-average/standard deviation that badly (not even Professor Fireman).