Dear Sallie Mae,
My heart flutters every time you call. Your voice makes the hairs on my neck rise… just like the interest rates on all my current student loans.
It’s one week until my birthday; you remembered to call.
Sacrificially, I recite my accounting and routing number to you once again, promising to be faithful.
You laugh at my humility.
You wipe me dry—not of my tears, but of my bank account...
Damn you, Sallie Mae. Damn you.
But the coins keep coming and they won’t stop coming. Bounded and chained at your very expensive delight, I will continue to keep my pride. Although pennies will be counted daily until the end of time, the elimination of my joy will not be taken at your expense! And as you continue to make your monthly collections in this new decade, grovel as I obtain the grain and keep on keeping on, bringing me much closer to “freedom.”
Recognizing how infantile my finances remain, I can’t help but feel relieved knowing that I’ve existed this long. Facing near death experiences, I remain perpetually shocked that I’m still blessing this earth with my presence. Tis a fate I didn’t really ask for but still continue to enjoy, and you bet your bottom dollar I’m still thankful…at the big age of 25. Amen & Amend. While my words remain melancholic, my soul sings and anticipates for another day.
With the remains you’ve left me with, I bought a backpack. And at the big age of 25, I have chosen to buy a one way ticket out of America the brave, and live out of that backpack up until society? my predestined will? involuntarily tugs me back to the “9-5 receive a dime” lifestyle.
To those who voluntarily stick their noses at my reality watch me veer off the unpaved way, it may seem as if I’ll being doing this alone, but alas, you’ll be there, occupying the back of my mind—reminding me of my crippling student debt.
You’ve provided me with numerous angina pectoris episodes mistaken as symptoms of a heart attack (if only), brought me to websites offering flat-rate prices for a fresh ovary, and a lifetime of debt so large, winning the lottery twice will only cover the interest accumulated. But let me tell you this baby cakes, I will not let you reign in my eagerness to jump from city to city, country to country, McDonalds to Lé McDonálds. I have no choice but to remain committed to you, but the time will come where our relationship with great delight will conclude…
but Lord knows, it won’t be at the big damn age of 25 (dear God, if only).
Recklessly & Respectfully,
Huzzah! First stop, New Zealand…
Venmo Account: @dumbrichhh