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If You Can’t Handle Me at My “SPU Final Is Tomorrow,” You Don’t Deserve Me at My “SPU Final Was Yesterday”

You need to be able to handle me at my "SPU final is tomorrow."

Hey, boy who wants to date me, I have 21 words for you: If you can’t handle me at my “SPU final is tomorrow,” you don’t deserve me at my “SPU final was yesterday.”

Do you want me when I’m getting wildly drunk in the quiet car of my Amtrak home for winter break? When I’m feeding my semester’s worth of notes through the shredder at my mom's office? When I’m screaming “I NEVER NEED TO KNOW SCIENCE EVER AGAIN” for all of Cambridge to hear from the top of the Pfoho Belltower? When I’m sleeping for 15 hours straight because I have literally nothing else to do?

If so, you’re going to have to handle me when I’m bawling at 4 a.m. in the media lab of Lamont. When I’m purchasing my fourth Coca-Cola of the day from the vending machine in the Adams laundry room. When I’m putting my hair in a bun because you know I have not brushed it in a week. When I’m whining that I am going to fail even though we all know grade inflation is a thing and I probably will not. When I’m sending you six Snapchats in a row with a skeleton filter and the caption “Meeeeeeeee rn.”

And you’re going to have to want me when I’m eating icing straight out of the container. Before my SPU final, I will be eating consolatory icing straight out of the container. After my SPU final, I will be eating celebratory icing straight out of the container.

The choice is yours, boy who wants to date me. Can you handle me at my “SPU final is tomorrow”? And can you help me study? My SPU final is tomorrow.

Image credit: ChicagoNow.com

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