The awkward weather season is finally over, which marks the beginning of a transition from classy winter sweaters and trousers to the band T-shirt and cargo shorts aesthetic I thought had died with the warmth back in November. As the temperature continues to rise, so do the tensions of the students, especially with midterms ever looming over them. That being said, with fun festivities like the Atlanta Film Festival over the horizon, there is hopefully enough incentive to slog through the Sisyphean tasks of everyday college life.
Dear Doolino,
I just had the weirdest experience. I was really hungry, so I broke into my roommate’s special food drawer and stole a couple of the brownies he keeps in there. He really doesn’t like sharing food, but I was super hungry so I ate both of them and I’m not going to lie, they tasted a little strange. I decided to watch a bit of television, and after about 45 minutes I began to get some weird headaches. I also got hungrier. I went back into his drawer and saw a few mushrooms lying around with some oregano, so in a ravenous fit I gobbled down those as well. That’s when the things started to get a bit fuzzy. Out of nowhere, this portal appeared in my door and a hooded figure grabbed me by the hand, pulling me inside his magical world. There I saw a wonderful land: seas of unlimited Sriracha, pools of perfectly crisp pizza and cushions of comfortably soft chicken tenders. What stood out to me was the music of this wondrous world, a soft piano score juxtaposed by a loud, commanding and bellowing voice shouting “tenders!” in intervals. The voice sounded familiar, I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but after hearing the voice I felt safe.
The trance suddenly ended, and there I was in my bed at about 3 p.m. the next day, woken up by the furious, relentless sobbing of my roommate. I don’t understand the significance of my experience. Any thoughts?
From A Bad Shroomate
Dear Shroomate,
Every week whenever I think the questions can’t get any weirder, some idiot has to write in a question that proves me wrong.
I cannot say that I am a qualified therapist but at the very least you don’t need to wait four months to use my services. My rudimentary understanding of Sigmund Freud makes me think that perhaps your lucid dream is a metaphor for your deep longing for the old WoodREC. There is nothing I can do about that. The free market has reared its ugly head at Emory, taking away the school provided cafe we know and love.
As long as those beautiful flatbreads live on in your heart, then we will always have those glorious memories of the Fall 2016 semester.
From Doolino
Dear Doolino,
I’m a passionate finance major fascinated by investment banking but I have to take a stupid business ethics class to fulfill a writing requirement. I got super bored in that class and found your email by stalking your LinkedIn. I want to ask you a few questions. Do you really have a “limited working proficiency” in Afrikaans, Chinese and Swedish? I also noticed that your profile says that you are the editor-in-chief for The Emory Wheel. Is that true or did you lie about that to impress potential employers? I also could not help but notice that you claimed to have skills in “teamwork and Microsoft Word,” yet have no endorsements for any of these. Did you seriously think you would look impressive to companies by listing such vague and simple soft skills or did you list them down just to please your own ego?
Do answer at your leisure! I can’t wait to hear back from you.
Sincerely,
Show Me How You Network-work-work-work-work
Dear Network,
First of all, isn’t “business ethics” a bit of an oxymoron?
Baie geluk vir die vertaling van hierdie, leser. That means “I have full proficiency in the language” in Afrikaans, which you would know if you actually bothered to complete the Duolingo course. Also, regarding the editor-in-chief thing, it isn’t exactly “lying.” It’s just a tiny bit of exaggeration, a concept that shouldn’t be too foreign to you if you hope to actually succeed in the world of business. If I wanted to lie I would say something really ridiculous like that I have a recommendation letter from Barack Obama, or that Migos is coming to Emory.
Regarding your criticism of my teamwork skills, the number of my group projects that failed is extremely low, even lower than the average lifespan of an investment banker. And you may scoff at my Microsoft Word skills, but I’ll be the one laughing when my beautiful WordArt designs are adopted by my future employer.
Anyways, you poke fun at me for lying on my LinkedIn. At least I’m not lying to myself by pretending that I actually have a “passion” for finance.
Burn.
From Doolino
