I Paid My Tuition Bill and Now the Dean Has a Fresh Fade

Only at this very special place will you be considered exotic if you’ve gone to public school. 

Mid-chew at Hillel. I swiped a dear friend of mine in. What screams generosity more than bestowing a premium guest swipe at the kosher dining hall?

Dr. Oz has taken the lead. 

I’m wishing to access new scripts, find dialogue that doesn’t feel rehearsed. Only by permuting the thousands of coffee chats will I ascertain a gnostic. 

I’m trying to write this article while someone wearing a private school sweater is counseling a high school friend over Zoom through their Penn essay. They wanna hear “interdisciplinary'' as much as possible. Like, healthcare management. Yeah, yeah. If you actually are interested in economics. Oh, you are? This would be perfect. 

My friend just added me to a Magdalena Bay concert group chat and I don’t know how to explain that my DiscoverCard just got declined at Wawa. I can’t wait to graduate and be at the tail-end of the generation of beneficiaries of the millennial lifestyle subsidy. Only then will this problem feel insignificant, when the hiring manager at Comedy Central consents to pay for my labor (respond to my emails por favor <3333). 

This institution is practically paying me to go here but I still subject myself to the life of a concubine in the crusades. Like what the fuck is Magic Gardens and how is it going to impact the economy? Perhaps a pathology of postmodern progressivism holds the metaphorical key to this metaphorical bundle of knowledge. Or maybe I should shut the fuck up and transfer to a liberal arts school (I don’t like this option either). 

Cosplaying as a bearer of exalted wisdom is all fun and games until people actually want to be your friend and you don’t have the millennial lifestyle subsidy funds to match that energy. I wish my tragic backstory was a childhood spent in an “up and coming neighborhood” (think how Julia Fox talks about Yorkville) of a major American metro and not the equivalent to a Pinterest mood board about living in a trailer home and relating to Ethel Cain (sans religious trauma).

Deliverable Deliverable Deliverable. So many club applications, so little rapture. Where are the engaging minds (liberal arts schools, we’ve been over this)!!!

Every time I go to my finance lecture I grow more confident that the engaging minds are all at welding schools. There should be something like wife swap but for ivy-leaguers-by-way-of-the-Upper-East-Side and people who have real jobs. I miss working with my hands. I should be a barber like my dad and give the dean a fresh fade. At least with jobs like those your compensation is a somewhat decent reflection of the real value of your labor. 

Everything will be okay.