An Open Letter (To Myself)

Dear Self,

Stop wallowing at your pity party. Winter happens to everybody and it's not an excuse to throw away your entire education. That's right. Now pick up your textbook and read a little Emerson. Yes, I know that you don't want to and that you'd rather be sitting in your sad worn-out underwear, stuffing your face with fig newtons. No, just because they have figs in them does not mean that they are healthy. On that note, go to the freaking gym. You're a student and it's free. They have these awesome machines that allow you to run in place while you watch TV or there's this other machine that allows you to walk up stairs that lead to nowhere. Throw a couple This American Life podcasts on your ipod, make a Prince playlist, and hustle. Not only will you look better, but you'll feel better, too. Trust me, I know you.

Now, once you do that, start putting other things into place. This blog? Severely neglected. Put your fingers to the keyboard. It's okay if you don't get any comments. It's just good to have it out there. While you're in front of the computer, set a little non-internet related writing time aside. You've had some short story ideas floating around since Christmas. Don't those ideas deserve to become tangible? And how about typing up a cover letter and applying for those internships that you were so excited for? I know that it's scary to apply and risk being rejected, but, if you don't, you'll never get anywhere. Remember that movie about that guy who sat around and never did anything exciting? You don't because they never made that movie. As a friend, I want your life to be bio-pic material. Think of who could play you! Dakota Fanning, perhaps? Deroda from Gossip Girl? The list goes on.

As soon as all of that mental clutter is cleared up, move on to the physical clutter. Actually, why wait. Get on it now. Girl, your room is disgusting. I thought that you had standards, but, being the you have to wade through wrinkled sweaters, thrice worn t-shirts, and the occasional crumpled-up shopping bag just to get to your closet, I was obviously wrong. You're not a lost cause, but you will be if you don't do some laundry. You'll appreciate this when you realize how much nicer people are to you when you don't have wine and cheeto stains down your front.

Did you know that next Saturday you'll be twenty-two years old? Can you figure out why that feels so much older than twenty-one? I'm not sure why, but I'll take a stab at it. I think that it's because you've made a lot of progress in this past year. Yeah, give yourself a pat on the back for confronting some things that certainly weren't easy and coming out the better for it. The process isn't over, which can be discouraging, but I'm sure that you can keep going. Don't pull the covers over your head, only to peer out when there happens to be something with Jon Hamm on T.V. Hop out of bed, slap on your reading glasses, some running shoes, and better yourself.

Lastly, give yourself a goddamn break. That's right, I'm a flip-flopper, but sometimes you gotta flip and other times you gotta flop. And no, this not an excuse to skip Emerson.

Love,
Me