Proof that I am an angsty, whiny 15 year old in my heart of hearts:
Let’s get real. I find it entirely entertaining that my monthly loan payments for my English degree are equivalent to the year of the Norman invasion. OH, the irony! So apropos, some might say. I also find it thoroughly entertaining that Wells Fargo expects me to pay said amount. Oh, just put it on my credit card, yiss? My only solution is consolidation you say? Extend the loan until I’m 47, is that so? I’m just proud I did not cry over the phone…very loudly.
Wells Fargo lady says there’s a Plan B: file for bereavement. Oh, honey, I’ve been bereaving this day for quite some time. Step 1: denial/numbness. Does not look for job the entire summer after graduation–basks in parttime work and naps. What loan? Check. Step 2: anger/blaming others. Curses school and other factors that shall go unnamed. Check. Step 3: bargaining. Considers offering up first born, renting out womb, Googles whether becoming a quadriplegic will void my loans (yes, yes it does). Check. Step 4: depressed mood, sadness and crying. If I had a nickel for every tear shed, let’s just say, I still wouldn’t be able to make my loan payment but I would have a lot of vending machine loot. Step 5: I refuse to accept this. Uncheck. Fuck this shit.
A lost cause. An indentured servant to the man. In the market for a sugar daddy. whinewhinegrumblegrumble
In other news:
I don’t care what anyone says–I’ve resolved that Christmas music is perfectly acceptable before Thanksgiving.
Some might say that I am a pessimist. I agree with that some. But when it comes to people, I think I’m generally overly optimistic. I would probably be anyone’s friend if they wanted me to. I hope that doesn’t cheapen my friendship.
I was thinking about how lying should never be the antithesis of honesty. Honesty has nothing to do with not lying. Honesty has everything to do with not being a hermit. Lies is to truth as hermit is to honest.
[enter all other unintelligible, sans eloquence anecdotes here]
