fluorescent adolescent,

After hibernating in the depths of my house with my good friend Netflix and a clock that only read “island time” for well over a month, school has resumed and the ever-twisting knife of tax on food and clothes has taken its toll on my wallet. The growing hipster in me can’t resist the Urban Outfitters Outlet store within walking distance, and the fatty in me has yet to forget the taste of Greek fries at the 24 hour diner. Yes, my friends. I have been here but one week and already I’m calling in the reinforcements.

The 2011 graduating class from my high school all probably remember the infamous Digital Arts 1 teacher for her constant “uuuurm” “aaaaahh” “huhhhhh” noises in the “harrrrrr” middle of “derrrrrrrr” every “haaaaaaa” sentence. “Uhhhhhhh” and sometimes at the end of sentences. She was a large woman whose appearance made an equally large impression: make-up that must have been done in the dark and unkempt hair that simply had to be the result of a brush falling behind the dresser; she was far too immobile to reach it down there. However, in my desperation I unfolded the balled up, repressed, and dirty memories of my high school career to extract a single skill learned from the blow-off class, Digital Arts 1.

In between the “hurrg”, the “mehhhhh”, and the “thuuuuuuu”s of expressionless noise, there had been instructions on tips and tricks of Microsoft Excel spreadsheets. And there, in the endless web of rows and columns, now lies my advanced calculations and projections for the next ten weeks. My budget will remain balanced. Thank you, completely useless art credit.