A Letter


Dear Student Loan Bill,

Thank you for reminding me that I will not be moving out of my parents’ house any time soon. As if I had any previous hope of vacating these parental premises soon and get on with feeling like a normal adult, you have made it clear that it won’t happen.

You’ve ruined the archetypal, pre-economic crisis vision I had of jumping ship and wanderlust-ing around Asia or third world countries spreading my post-graduate charm all while blogging and taking pictures of me doing exotic things only to make my Facebook friends jealous and depressed in their cubicles.

I think you like the fact that I wake up extra extra early every morning, jump on a bus that takes as long as if I rode a horse-driven chariot to the best city in the world, work for exactly 8 hours (no more and no less or my anal boss will chop my head off), rush to catch a bus back home to the suburbs, eat dinner and get in bed by 10pm. It just tickles you that I can be in the city but not really BE in the city, doesn’t it?

With an estimated 12 years of monthly payments that double my current weekly hourly salary, you’ve truly brightened my day. (Note: sarcasm)

In 12 years, I hope I can laugh this off, or I guess I hope I can pay this off…

The fact is, let’s be honest: I’m going to grin and bare it. Because that’s really all one can do nowadays, isn’t it?

You’ve got to grin and bare the shit that’s thrown at you in order to rise to the top. A wise person once told me that, actually no, I said that. Because on college graduation they told us we’d success in anything we did now that we had a diploma and 4 years of loans to be paid. (Nice inspirational thought though.)

I’m the granddaughter of a fortune cookie fortune writer, did you know that?

So cheers to you, Student Loan Bill, congrats on being another factor pushing me ever so forcefully to rise through the muck that is my future. And let’s hope that hard work does pay off, wherever that might lead.

And Lord have mercy on the generations of grads after me.