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Dear Finals,
If you were a man, I'd kick you in the balls. Why must you torment me so much at the end of every semester? You've kept me awake for the past 72 hours, and frankly, I'm losing my mind. Because of you, I no longer have a social life. Amphetamines and caffiene are my new best friends. Please go die a slow and painful death... after I dominate you, of course.
Love,
Leila
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Dear Finals,
I'm so glad that we're no longer together. Sure, we had our ups and downs, and there was the one very unfortunate incident that happened in the stacks ... who's idea was it anyway to mix Goldschlager, Yager and Starbucks venti lattes? I'm sure it was the 12 NoDoz that made us do it. I still often wonder whatever happened to that poor librarian. The look on her face ...
Alas, I do sometimes miss the cold caress of 320 dogeared pages discussing mitochondria, chi squares and what a debit vs. credit is. Thank God I never have to use any of that in real life. And yes, thank you, my hands are much better now that they're not covered with highlighter, ink and random paper cuts.
Maybe someday when I get the urge to add a few more letters behind my name we'll meet up again. But not anytime soon ... I'm still enjoying getting to know real life.
Love,
My degreed ass
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