The intense amount of homework made me feel as though 20-hour Wall Street work days were normal. I thought having my own cubicle in a desolate office was luxury compared to studying in the modly library basement. Andover, how could you let me have such low self-worth? How could you let me become another cog in the machine? I’m too humbled to ask for a raise since everytime I asked my teachers to round my grade up to a 6, all I got was a passive aggressive email!
The mosh pit during dances caused permanent toe numbness in my left foot. My doctor said the surgery to regain feeling in my big toe would cost $69,420. Andover, care to actually use some of the billion-dollar endowment for my poor toe?
The terrible living conditions of Pine Knoll made me think it was okay to live in a NYC twelfth floor walk up for 4k a month. At least I can bring girls into my apartment without arduously asking my landlords for permission. Do you even understand how many uncomfortable conversations I had with my house counselor just to lie that we were very platonically watching a movie in my room? All those years of having yucky hookups in the squirrel-infested sanctuary…
The food served at Commons made me gourmet-food-intolerant. When I went to New York last weekend, I ordered lemon-grass pork at Nobu. They said it wasn’t on the menu, so I threw a tantrum until they went to the grocery store. After waiting for an hour, I sent the pork back because it wasn’t dry enough. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat seasoned food again.
I forgot to invite my parents to my wedding. Yes, Andover, that is your fault. During my young, formative years, I had grown accustomed to going months without calling my parents. Andover forced me to stick my nose into the books, so I simply had no time to chat with mommy. My friends had to explain to me why remembering to invite my house counselor instead of my parents was messed up. At least my house counselor finally blessed me with a parietal for the night of my wedding.