In Which I Buy A Car And Name Her Cora

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Cora’s on the right she’s not the cool orange van you kinda have to squint I’m terribly sorry

The last three days have been spent in a frenzy of car searching and comparing and, sweet mercy, finally purchasing. As it is the summer before my junior year, I finally accepted that no one is ever going to walk up to me on the street and hand me a car. I’m just gonna have to buy one. So let’s paint the opening picture. I have ten days at home to pursue car-buying before I have to be three states away. I also sorta need to buy a car before I go back cause I kinda don’t have a ride to Ohio. This is a pressure cooker of a situation.

I’m so bad at stuff like this, I really am. My ENFP speaks to my lack of follow through and it couldn’t be more true. I spent a few hours with craigslist and consumer auto reports and then tried to figure out what an auto loan was for a while while my dad excitedly told me about all the secret things I was gonna have to pay for like registration and title and anything else New York State can think of really. I called USAA and talked to someone named Helen who told me to find the perfect car cause I really can buy my best friend. I printed out some forms that I still really don’t know the purpose of. I was Ready.

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Let Them Eat Toast

The other day I had a “Let them eat cake” moment but it was just with myself and it was more of a “Let yourself eat toast” moment. I realized that the way I view food health-wise is totally weird. I ate cake for lunch two days last week, but I think toast is too bad for me to consume ever in my life.

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What You Wanted To Say In That Email

If I’ve learned anything during my two month stint in the adult workforce it’s that emails are the living worst. No one really says what they mean cause you have to be pretty polite and a lot of people are just no good at expressing themselves through text. Also, I used “salty” in an email the other day as in “these people are gonna be super salty you put them in groups please tell them and don’t make me do it” and no one really understood what I was saying. So anyways here’s what we email our coworkers, and what we really mean.

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TBT: Help There’s A Criminal In My Backyard

Throwback thursday is arguably the driving force behind my generation. I firmly believe that some people only make it through the week by looking forward to the next Thursday so they can force everyone to recognize how they were at least seventeen times cuter than all the other children. In the spirit of this strange holiday that we can’t help but recognize, I bring you throwback story Thursday.

My parents’ house is the very last one on the street in a typical suburban neighborhood. The backyard is all woods and the neighborhood ends with a big stretch of woods. Sometimes that’s really cool like let’s go on a nature walk and sometimes it’s more like dang it there’s people doing drugs in our woods again, but it is what it is.

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Wear Your Shorts To Work

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Because I’m in Florida, I’ve planted myself firmly under the impression that shorts can be professional if you wear them right, and this notion is only cemented by my boss who does exactly the same thing. Besides you could put a blazer on over your pajamas and successfully lead a meeting, those things are magic.

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