A Letter to My College Self


Dear Self,

First off, you are one lucky son of a bitch. You’re probably having the time of your life. If I can remember correctly, you kind of took it easy last semester. It’s no big deal. Just don’t start stacking terrible semesters. In the end, your GPA really isn’t that important unless you’re trying to get a job at Morgan Stanley, which let’s face it, you’re not smart enough to pull that off. So just make sure you go to class 75% of the time and don’t miss any tests. Those are pretty important.

As for me, my life is just GREAT. I’m in my second year at Finance Consultants & Partners, Inc. and it’s really exciting. I’m meeting new people, signing new clients and working the corporate grind. I have a nice weekly happy hour that I go to on Thursdays where it’s really just us and a few other friends from college talking about how great we used to have it. Let me tell you, I know you know that you have it good, but it’s even better than you realize.

Like for instance, during finals week when Jess wanted you to meet her in the library stacks around 2am, but you didn’t want to get out of bed? You’re such a damned idiot. She wanted to bone you. In the library. You stupid idiot. Plus, she’s hotter than any piece of tail you’re going to get after college, not that you couldn’t. It’s just that hot, single girls just don’t exist after college, or at least it seems that way. It’s hard out here for a postgrad. You can’t just be running around town turning down all sorts of strange. But no worries, you’ll make up for that mistake in your sophomore year. That was a good year for us.

I digress. Looking back, you should probably tone it down on the drinking. I’m not talking a lot here, but just maybe take a day or two off each week. I’m paying for it as I write this. All of my joints hurt, I wake up with back pain that may or may not be associated with that bad fall you took at the 2008 winter beach bash after you thought it was a good idea to turn a cold, concrete floor into a slip and slide. Don’t worry, it should only take mom and dad about six months to stop reminding you of how much the hospital bill cost, so you’ll be in the clear sooner than you think.

Also, are those late night nachos from El Rancho still as good as I remember? I just ask because you should keep that to a once a week kind of deal. I’m too tired to work out more than three days a week and you’ve put me in quite the hole. Dropping the freshman-15 was easy enough, but man, I’m still working on that extra 20 pounds you put on during junior year. So just a head’s up, those late night food runs are a killer and definitely not worth it. Just putting that out there for you to think about next time you’re thinking about ordering Gumby’s pizza at 3am.

But what am I saying? You’re in college. Live it up, dude. I’m more than happy to pay for all the garbage you’re putting my body through right now. I had a good time, didn’t I? Damnit, I’d give just about anything to be in your shoes right now. I mean, I’m way richer than you, so I’ve got that going for me. At the same time, I have no idea what the hell to spend all this money on except for booze and electronics. Kids? Ha, just kidding. Use rubbers or be damn sure she’s on the pill. I don’t want to wake up one morning like Nick Cage in ‘The Family Man.’ I mean it, man.

My kindest regards,


PS: Don’t take Lauren to formal sophomore year. She ends up hooking up with a bell hop.

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TheChampionsTour (@ChampsTourTFM) is a contributing writer for Post Grad Problems, Rowdy Gentleman, and Total Frat Move .

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