Goodbye, Wesleyan. I’m off to find a job and an apartment. I go now proudly to enter the workforce and live on my own and be a grown-up and suchlike. But worry not, my darlings! I’m not graduating, and perhaps I never shall! (Don’t tell my dad that.)
That’s right, I’m Taking Some Time Off. (Insert collective gasp.) Forth I go into the cruel, cold world, prepared to finagle gainful employ and inexpensively housing with nothing but my labor, my good looks, and my roguish charm.
Why, whatever shall I do with my newfound freedom and lack of real fiscal responsibility? Perhaps I shall endeavor to climb a greased obelisk. Or perhaps I shall cultivate a drinking problem. Yes, that’s the ticket. I don’t drink; I find the taste of alcohol repulsive, and this one time I threw up from drinking whiskey sour, amaretto, and milk, and eating cake, and that was pretty much it. But with all the free time (24 hours per day – 8 hours of work = 16 hours of fun!) and loneliness (upstate New York + friends still in college = crippling depression!) it seems that my only reasonable recourse shall be to the bottle.
It will start innocently enough; I’m 21 now, and I ought to sample the myriad pleasures of the spirits, wines, and Pabsts of the world. I shall begin with humorously named beers (HeBrew, anyone?) and anything brewed by monks. Soon I’ll start drinking “to get the creative juices flowing.” And, given time, my life will be reduced a repetitive grind, eight hours of work (spent thinking about getting off work) followed by four hours of Simpsons reruns and cheap vodka, two hours vomiting, and ten hours passed out with my shoes still on.
By December, I’ll have come crying to my parents and, with any luck, be checked into a state-funded rehab center. The better part of Winter Break will be spent at home, getting yelled at for sleeping late. And in late January, I shall return to Wesleyan, a new and better man, with stories to tell, experiences to share, and wisdom to impart!
And I will pretend I was glad I did it, and that everyone should take time off, in order to truly appreciate hir Wesleyan experience.
Also at my job I will get beaten up for saying “hir.”
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