Opinion: I Thought We’d Be Gone By Now
When I packed for school, I congratulated myself on the economical decision to bring only summer clothes. All the more room for my epic 50-pound PC and Game of Thrones Funko Pop figurines. How could I have known the semester would last past August?
In the beginning, everything seemed to go okay. In spite of low testing availability, the numbers climbed steadily. I knew I’d saved myself a ton of money by not buying laundry detergent. Mom could take care of that when I saw her next week!
Then, Caslen struck back. That dirtbag is obsessed with the health, safety, and overall wellbeing of his students. He poured millions of dollars into putting stickers on the ground and writing a stern email telling greek life to quit partying.
And just like that, the events stopped. Moved by his love and compassion for them, every student immediately #PledgedColumbia, duct-taped masks to their faces, and deleted every upcoming social event from their GCals.
Then it got cold. I’d packed exactly ten t-shirts, ten pairs of socks, and half a bottle of shampoo. All of sudden, I’ve been stuck here for a month and a half, rationing my soda supply, because President Caslen miraculously did with one email what world leaders struggled to do for 5 months.
It actually plunged below 70 degrees today. I begged my mom to let me move back in, but she put it firmly that, unless the president himself cuts the semester, I will be staying in the dorm she paid for. Well, I have a plan. I’m going to throw the hugest, loudest, least-socially-distant party Columbia has ever seen. That’s right. It’s going to have all the things: Natty Light, Zesty Queso Cheezits, and tons of smoking hot babes.
I know what you’re thinking: “Why not just buy a jacket?” That’s like saying “Why not just use a trackpad instead of a mouse to play League of Legends?” Columbia’s local Walmart doesn’t sell Men’s Shotaro Kaneda Vegan Red Leather Akira-Replica Style Motorcycle Jackets off the rack. No, that treasure remains safe in my closet, at home, exactly where I will be once this school year is officially canceled.
All I’m saying is, if you’re reading this, consider it an invitation to the sickest party of the year. Face masks prohibited.
