An Open Letter to Santa Claus

fourth year myah paden

Dear Santa,

I know what you’re thinking, and I get it. I’ll be the first to admit that I never thought we would speak again. To be honest, I stopped believing in you in 2005 when I woke up too early on Christmas morning to find my parents wearily eating cookies under the glow of rainbow lights. Because of that, you have no reason to care about my wants; I understand that. I also realize that most of your correspondence is with children (which is totally respectable in your position, albeit not so much in this social climate), but since this is my senior year of undergrad, I figured I could use all the help I could get - mythical or otherwise. This semester has not been my best, and adulting is a lot less exciting than I thought it would be last we met, so for Christmas this year I have a short but specific list of requests that maybe you can help with.

Here’s a softball to start: I could really use some toilet paper. No, seriously. It’s an expense I hate dealing with, and to be honest, it really adds up if you get the good stuff. That’s what I want. To be clear, I want Charmin Ultra Strong, 72 rolls. My roommate is heavy-handed when it comes to paper use (a crumpler, not a folder). And while you’re at it, it would be awesome for you to throw in some other essentials like liquid laundry detergent (not the pods. There was a whole thing…), ink cartridges for the printer I got Freshman year and never use because I don’t want to buy ink, and a bottle of sparkling rose for--well, with your schedule, I’m sure you understand.

This next one is kind of tricky...If you could find a way to send motivation and/or academic drive my way, I would be so grateful I’d book an Airbnb in the North Pole for January 1st to thank you in person. It’s just that I can feel the desire to care about my responsibilities and academic standing wane drastically as the winter draws near. The leaves turn brown, the days grow short, and as the temperature drops, so does my GPA. I honestly struggled to conjure the will to write you this letter. Mr. Claus, I need your help to save me from myself. If you could start with my attendance to my 9:05 AM Intro to Political Science lecture, that would be fantastic. My professor hasn’t seen me in a month, so I’m sure he would be happy about that, too. After that, in no particular order, sprinkle a bit of motivation magic over my daily wardrobe (which has steadily over the last few months become my pajamas from the night before), my car (an actual disaster), and my phone (so maybe I’ll call my parents sometime?).

That pretty much sums it up. I hope to hear from you soon.

A Very Nice Part-Time Adult