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This is Weird
Sometimes I just don’t feel like studying. Sometimes it’s just one of those nights where you simply want to watch Grey’s Anatomy and go to sleep at ten because you worked insanely the night before. However, when I don’t study for a test I have this phobia that I’ll go ahead and blame my parents for installing in me. It goes a little something like this: If I don’t study for my test I will most likely fail and that of course would mean I fail the entire class. If I fail a class, I won’t go to a good college! In fact I might not even go to college at all because what college would possibly want a failure? This of course would leave me to live with my parents, one of my scariest nightmares. Unfortunately, I would probably end up with some type of mental disorder due to all the extra time with my parents.
To get away from the house and my helpless disease I’d go to apply for jobs at McDonalds or Shoprite. These jobs wouldn’t be so bad for a high school student, but they’d be my life careers forever. Maybe I’d land a job at Shoprite but I’d end up being the one cleaning the grimy toilets…for life! Getting minimum wage at Shoprite would mean I need to live with my parents even longer till I could save up for a house. This could take approximately 10 years. By then I’d be 28 years old, and completely alone. The only person talking to me anymore would be Archie from Shoprite.
A lack of a social life would cause me to impulsively buy pets, mainly cats. Buying so many animals at the age of 28 could be considered by some people as premature on-set old cat lady syndrome. I wouldn’t really be able to feed or take proper care of all of my animals with my paycheck from Shoprite, so I would end up on an episode of Animal Hoarders. Then when people saw me scrubbing away at the toilets in the bathrooms, they’d say “Hey! You’re the girl from Animal Hoarders!” What these people wouldn’t know is that watching my precious animals (and only friends) being taken away from me by animal control actually was making me depressed. Eventually I’d become clinically depressed and therefore would need a psychiatrist. When the psychiatrist asks what exactly happened, I’d respond, “it all started when I didn’t study for a test”.
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