Good news, peeps! I’ve found an apartment. The not-as-good-news (because all news must come in two shades, if only for the “objectivity” of coverage) is that the bright & cheerful studio I found in the quiet & pleasant apartment complex, is too nice, and so accordingly costly. I’ll be eating my past and future earnings, or savings and loans, respectively, to afford my present living arrangements. It’s really something else that bothers me though.
Shouldn’t I be suffering? Isn’t that part of a student’s life? To suffer, to live in a hovel, to eat ramen noodles to the exclusivity to everything else, to dress shabbily, to sleep too little; in short, to be deprived and denied? What am I doing getting such a nice apartment? Am I depriving myself of the ultimate expression of college life by doing so? Am I depriving myself of self-denial, abnegation and suffering? Que horror!
To paraphrase John Lennon (or more precisely, mimic his words while completely subverting his message)
You may say I’m a worrier, but I’m worried that I’m the only one.