Devastation. That’s how sophomore sweetheart Ashley Bates described waking up the third Saturday of 2019, a bit of dried vomit on her pillow, just feet away from the crystals she’d bought for selflove, and the essential oils meant for clarity, which were especially effective when taken with the Adderall she stole from her little brother over break.
All these instruments of self-care were in vain, however, when she discovered that, despite the promise of a new year, she was still the same shitty person she had always been. “Yeah, I pretty much suck,” Bates confessed. “I always have and I always will.”
Bates is pretty embarrassed, because she told everyone this was going to be her year. “Now I have to call everyone and tell them it’s not,” she said.
There is still some hope for this pathetic excuse of a human being. After reading a New Yorker article about psychedelics which she has decided to make her entire personality for the foreseeable future, she will be doing shrooms this coming Wednesday in a last-ditch attempt to become, just a little bit, less shitty.
