Dear Mom,
Remember me? That random kid you raised for 18 years and then sent off to big, scary "college?" You cried every night before I even left for school… doesn’t quite seem like you’re crying now, does it. I know, I haven't called in a while - I was busy cramming for that midterm that I oh-so-gracefully bombed and was pre-occupied with taking my way-too-frequent naps that seem to last all day. I’m alive and well, so no need to worry or tell me to text you when I get back to my dorm room from that frat party. Yes, I’m taking care of myself, and yes, I’m attempting (but failing miserably) to eat healthy. What? The gym? Oh, yeah, about that... anyway, classes are good. I haven’t flunked out quite yet, so your tuition is still going to good use. My friends are the same old, still coercing me to make poor decisions that I immediately regret the next day. I mean, what are college friends for, anyway. And no - there are no new boys in my life. I promise. Sure, I’ll call grandma and grandpa when I have a chance. Give them a kiss for me. No, please - no need to get the siblings on the phone. Seriously. Thanks though.
Have I ever told you that I miss your cooking? I think I eat the same food for the same meal from the same place basically every single day. Something that doesn’t require a microwave sounds pretty nice right about now. And laundry - don’t even get me started on laundry. Your talent in the laundry room is dearly missed. Yep, it’s still cold here. Like, really, really cold. I have enough mittens, though. Please don’t send more. No, I haven’t gone to a single office-hour with my TA or professor. I promise you, they will literally never remember my name. Even if I sent them flowers. NO - do not send them flowers. I know, I’m spending all of your money on food. I don’t even know how it’s possible… it’s just something you can’t question. Maybe a hidden talent of mine? I’m glad your pilates classes are going well. Sure, I'll try it. Tell Dad I’m sorry for all of the red solo cup pictures on Facebook. After all, it’s just water. You got your hair colored… again? Didn’t you just get it colored last week? Oh, blonder. I see. Gotchya.
Well, time to go lock myself in the library and probably accomplish nothing. I love you more. Sure, we can FaceTime soon. A care package? For me? I’ll keep an eye out. Okay. Sounds good. Yep. Love you too.
