Hello, I am a twenty-two year old post grad with a Christmas list. The following are some items I would like as well as a short explanation for them.
1. Roughly sixty rolls of quarters.
Wow, guys, I’ve found out that laundry is expensive. Not only expensive, but it is also only funded by a type of currency that no one ever carries. If rolls of quarters cannot be found, may I suggest writing to my apartment manager, Genesis*, and suggest a state of the art credit card machine that would fund the oldest washers and dryers nowhere near the Mason-Dixon line.
*Name has not been changed.
2. A chair.
You see, I’m broke. The only sit-able places in my apartment are as follows:
- My Bed
- My Floor
- My Roommates Couch
- A Barstool
- A Different Barstool
Yep, that’s it, folks! On the upside, my calves are tight and toned thanks to my daily routine of making a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and eating it standing up and also day dreaming of seating.
3. Yearly supply of toilet paper.
Uh, this should be on everyone’s list every single year and it’s a wonder I’m the first to actual vocalize my need for this.
4. Bananas that do not ripen.
Let’s face it. The banana is a tricky little bastard of a fruit. How many times have you gone to the grocery store with dreams of eating one banana every morning until they’re all gone. Then, and only then, will the last banana have gotten a single age spot. Bananas are only 19 cents each! I’ll get five! I type this as I peer upon three overripe bananas. Not even a bread recipe could save these suckers.
K-Cups! K-Cups galore! Saving money instead of going to Starbucks every morning by using your Keurig? Well, actually, you’re not even a little. The cheapest packs are about $12.00, which by my calculations means each delicious cup of coffee costs roughly one million dollars.
We didn’t have a math club in high school, could someone double check that for me?
6. Dust Bunnies.
Now, hear me out. I know what you’re thinking–doesn’t she get dust bunnies without even asking? Ah, I see what you mean, friend, but I’m not referring to that kind of dust bunny. I’m referring to a small rabbit (Are rabbits rodents? For some reason that was the original vocabulary in this section, but I’m 84% sure that a rabbit is not a rodent.) that would eat up all my dust for me. This way, I would get a fun companion, my cleaning would get done, and also I wouldn’t have to pay to feed this little bugger because its food source would just be the general crap that is a side-effect of living! Win win win win win!
7. A friend.
Probably my saddest list item. I have lots of friends. I HAVE LOTS I SWEAR IT. However, I would like a friend without the hassle of actual friendship. This new “friend” would serve one single purpose: giving the illusion of proper socialization. I would never ever ever speak to this person. This person would merely be there to sit next to me in silence while I do anything at all in order for me to feel as though I’ve had a positive interaction with society.
Well, there ya have it! Whether or not I’ve been good this year seems irrelevant, Santa, and I thought only our lord and savior Jesus Christ was able to judge us for our doings.