Some of you reading this will be graduating in mere months, and you will be told by prestigious commencement speakers that you will move on to a glorious future filled with happy thoughts and unicorns.
They are lying to you. Here’s the reality.
You will hurt yourself playing softball, because as you move into your late 20s, your body will start to hate you. The feeling will be mutual.
Every muscle you have is a potential source of pain. The war will be unending and merciless. Your body will strike first with a pulled groin. You will hit back with a weekend-long jag of Jägerbombs and bad life
decisions. Your body will retaliate with a vicious hangover, the kind you never got when you were young and full of piss and vinegar and dumb ideas about taking Lana Del Rey seriously.
You will own ice packs and heating pads and you will use them.
I wish you luck with your late 20s. You’re going to need it. Check back in a decade where I’ll bitch about my 30s, you poor bastards.
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