I'm not talking about the boarding-school years of "The Facts of Life" when Kim Fields flew around on roller skates. No, I'd like to ask Mrs. Garrett's college-age boarders exactly how they found time to attend classes, have boyfriends, work in Mrs. G's food shop, deal with all the issues of being 20-something girls and still keep a clean house.
Granted, the girls were not in your traditional college dorm room, but were crammed into an attic. You could walk from the door to the bed without wading through a sea of clothes; desks were neat and productive work areas. Their space wasn't littered with potato chip bags, diet soda cans, magazines, stacks of school books, headphones or dirty sweatshirts. And they shared one bathroom.
This bears repeating -- one bathroom, four girls. In real life, that bathroom should have had makeup everywhere, hair dryers and curling irons precariously dangling on the edge of the sink, delicate air-drying over the bathtub and towels flung over almost every surface.
My dorm room smelled like old sneakers, perfume and pizza boxes. My roommate and I had clothes hanging on outside of our closet doors because everything couldn't fit in the closet; my desk functioned as a workplace and vanity since the bathroom was overcrowded and had no counter space. When entering my room, you'd better have turned on the lights or else you might kill yourself tripping over stuff on the way to my bed. In the real world, those my friend, are the facts of life.