To Northwestern’s Quarter System, The Crusher Of Spirit, The Bringer of Late Nights Crying to “You Are Beautiful” By Christina Aguilera. On Repeat.

Time to cry in the shower while listening to Adele again.

It’s the end of May, and with it comes the flowers in bloom, the inconsistent sunlight of the Chicago sky, and the sound of graduation caps being thrown into the air in happy rejoice. This is a good time. This is a happy, carefree time. This is a time of new beginnings and new hopes that OH WAIT A FUCKING SECOND I HAVE TWO 15-PAGE PAPERS DUE NEXT WEEK AND ALL I WANT TO DO IS THROW A FUCKING BONG OUT THE WINDOW.

I’m not over-reacting. Okay, I am.

An Open Letter to Final Papers

Can’t tell if she is stressed about finals or just got fingered by Wolverine.

Okay, this has gone far enough.

You can ask anyone I know, I am a man of my word. When I lose a bet to my friends, I pay up. When I promise my older step-brother that I’ll do his chores if he would please just finally tell me what a dingleberry is, I do his chores. And I recognize that you and I made a pact a few months ago. I told you that I would write you, and Mephistopheles was there, and then we went on this crazy flying journey; it was eerily like the story of Faust.

Being that I am a man of my word, I will do as I have promised. I will go to the University Library, check out a bunch of giant books with frayed covers, and leaf through them to find keywords and phrases that will assist me in writing you in the most bullshit-heavy manner possible. But not before I give you a piece of mind. So here goes.