My girlfriend is a senior in college, soon to graduate from nursing school. Now you’re wondering if she’s a slacker on a second victory lap, if I’m fairly young, or if I’m just super creepily okay with a fairly large age gap. It’s probably some combination of those options, but that’s not the point here, so suck it.
Because working nearly full-time at a hospital, studying, and doing bullshit college assignments takes up nearly all of her time, sometimes things fall through the cracks and she asks me to write a paper for her or something. It sucks huge ass, but being the charitable, possibly whipped gent that I am, I reluctantly agree and preface that I take no responsibility if she gets a bad grade or if her instructor becomes wise to the fact that no one in college would write with such a shitty, beaten down, cynical, postgrad worldview.
The first time she asked, I got pretty excited about reliving my old college term paper playbook: posting up in the library, crushing kidney-murdering amounts of liquid robot piss like Red Bull or Monster, going through an entire can of Copenhagen over the course of an all-nighter, watching football players do nothing and/or get kicked out, Facebook creeping, and bullshitting with my buddies for 90 percent of the time. Then I remembered I have to work and stuff, so I can’t do that, and I’d rather not get accosted by a hobo at the Dallas Public Library. No one carries cash anymore, man, I’m sorry. No one is more obsolete in the credit card age than the homeless guy asking for change. Just get Venmo, dude. Shit.
In college, I vaguely remember having to drudge through papers and trying to loosely affiliate anything covered in class to whatever current events were happening at the time. That was the stated purpose of the assignment, but everyone knew the true purpose was to make the professor feel better about his life choices so he could convince himself he actually mattered. Perhaps the most unfortunate part was that neither I, nor anyone else in college, really had any damn clue about what was going on in the real world, and that fucking guy casually skimming the Wall Street Journal before class wasn’t fooling anyone. If I want someone’s speculative advice on the debt bubble, it won’t be the guy I’ve bought Adderall from and seen vomit over the railing of The Aardvark in the last week alone.
So, when her class predictably required her to write a paper on Obamacare, I felt like I got lucky because it didn’t pertain to the very relevant nursing topics of wiping strangers’ asses and avoiding geyser-like expulsions of God knows what kinds of fluids. Unlike college, when I knew nothing about any issues and just made all my papers pander to whatever biases I knew the professor had, I’m actually old enough to be, like, 25 to 30 percent informed on this issue and be affected by it. Definitely a first.
As I got started, I realized actually knowing a slight bit about what you’re doing is pretty helpful when trying to not sound like a complete dumbass. Shocking, I know. As I weighed the alleged benefits of becoming more like France against the drawbacks of bareback-sodomizing the United States Constitution, I realized this assignment really didn’t suck all that much. It was actually interesting. In our current state in life, it helps to be informed of something other than what bars aren’t charging cover that night. In college, this paper would’ve been absolutely brutal. “WTF is this employer mandate shit? I’m nineteen.” Being a little bit older, wiser, and more experienced might actually have one positive result, but ironically, it would only be beneficial if your old ass could travel back in time to college to capitalize on it.
I just lied to you. That paper sucked, and God, I miss the blissful ignorance of college. The hell is APA format? Also, if she fails that paper, I’m most likely gonna need someone to explain Tinder to me..