In the process of fall cleaning, I happened upon a letter I wrote to myself at the beginning of my senior year of college. It was a 500-word piece, which my English teacher mailed to me the following year, and it has inspired me to begin a new series, in which rather than writing letters to my future self, I write blogs posts to my former self.
Dear Future Caffeine Addict,
You have a problem. And while you hate to ask for help, eventually you must seek it. You can’t go on living this way, pretending like everything is hunky-dory and peachy-keen. You need to come forward– in this case, in the classroom– and sit where you can see the blackboard. Or better yet, admit your eye sight is deteriorating and make an optometrist appointment.
I know, I know. Your health insurance only covers big ol’ nerd glasses, but word to the wise, in ten years those will be super stylish. Anyone with an ounce of hipster will be sporting them on the streets of Williamsburg. Or, stated in terms you might appreciate, you’ll be ahead of the curve– just where you like to be.
Seriously, though, how many times are you going to ask Malkie to borrow her notes after class? Look, I get it; you hate participating in what you deem is frivolous classroom discussion. You rather sit in the back-right corner of the classroom and write a meta-political reflection on the state of African health policies regarding HIV/AIDS, malaria, and tuberculosis.
But you can’t always be an introvert. Eventually you have to engage, and you know what would assist in an extrovert-oriented endeavor? A nice pair of brand spanking new glasses. And remember that while they may be nerdy, you are in fact a nerd. Embrace it. It’ll be what gets you into your dream college and study abroad program… and potentially first job.
And more importantly, it’s a conversation starter. Everyone will comment. After all, you go to an all girls’ school where the conversation de jour centers on any particular girl’s personal accessory choice. Now I know you fear their judgment, but remember, most of your classmates have hearts and may even find it in their hearts to compliment you on your stunna shades.
Better yet, a boy who rides the bus with you and who you have a secret crush on, may compliment you and say something along the lines of, “You look super smart and classy in those new frames, Yaf.” Your eyes will probably light up, and in that moment you will learn two valuable life lessons: 1) You are indeed a heterosexual women and 2) Frames are your friends, not foes.
An Established Caffeine Addict