Feb2017, Opinion&Letters
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Second person self-flagellation

You roll over, check your phone, roll back, close your eyes again and listen to the radio. Get up lazy ass! Remember last time you stayed in bed an extra 5 minutes? Finally, after a few minutes of half listening to the news, you roll one last time and spring off the bed. You’re so athletic. You’re like a ninja bro. You look around the room and in the closet for clothes you feel like wearing that day. Holy fuck, you’re messy. Pig. There are some Darn Tough socks you wore a few days ago – your feet already smell, this is only going to make it worse- which should do nicely, your black stretchy jeans – chicken legs – and your brown sweater – too boring – your black sweater – too dreary – your blue sweater – too gay –  your purple sweater – also pretty gay, and it shows off your belly – your knit sweater that still smells like campfire smoke – hippy – which you pull over your head – That conceals your lumpy figure nicely!

You walk out of your room and start cleaning the counter and sink, cluttered from the – huge – mess you left from dinner last night. Once you’re finished that, you move to the fridge to get out your smoothie mixings: yogurt, milk, seeds. Dairy totally makes you gassy. You peel a banana, put it into the smoothie cup, scoop half an avocado – such a frivolous buy – in with the banana, and then the rest of the mixings. You need to eat more vegetables, less fruit, less sugar. You bring the cup to the blender, plug it in, and engage the start mechanism. Be quiet! Your roommates are sleeping. You take note that your roommates get up long before you do – but they hate noise! – that they both use their blenders far earlier in the day – but they won’t appreciate you making this much noise! – and keep blending.

Once you are done blending, you open your laptop, upload your – shitty ass – assignment for printing, grab your bag and your smoothie, and walk up to class. Hurry! You’re going to be late!

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