The Gall of Cookies

Hey Mom!

So it's that time of year again... while everyone else is filled with hope and cheer and good will toward humans, most university students are operating under the following crushing realizations:

• They will never be able to sleep, in fact they aren't sure if sleep ever existed
• The closer Christmas break gets the less time they to get crap done so they are trapped in this vortex of simultaneously increasing hope and despair.
•  One of their profs booked the exam on the last possible day at 7pm because they are LITERALLY EBENEZER SCROOGE REINCARNATE (I said literally and I meant it).

But this... this was the last straw.  One of my profs brought in cookies for the class.  HOW DARE YOU?!? You come in here with your tupperware ensconced placation like some sort of Ph.D wielding, Paula Deen admiring, peon of "the man".  Is it a coincidence there are cookies available the week before instructor evaluations start? No. Not it is not.  I would remind you that the wounds you have inflicted are grievous and cannot be soothed by the scorched offering of carbohydrates.

 I will not be swayed by the propitiatory nature of your gluten entrenched olive branch.  I will not be appeased like some sort of WW2 super power.  With my social life and sanity left like floating shrapnel in the wake of your misleading syllabus, convoluted assignments and constantly changing due dates, I will yet find the strength to stand against your tyranny.

That is all.

ps. Actually yeah, I will take a couple of those cookies... thanks.