I regret to announce that this is the end. I have come to the realization that writing, as profitable as it appears, may actually cause more grief and frustration than it merits. As writing legend Ernest Hemingway said, “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” This masochistic form of expression is not healthy for me to continue pursuing. Hence, I will be devoting myself to a new course of action starting today. Quite possibly, I will make the slow and arduous trek up to Shuman Hall and to the Registrar, where I will, in great detail, explain that writing no longer satisfies me and that I would enjoy partaking of a major which involves little to no thought process with regards to the deeper aspects of life. Mayhap philosophy or anthropology would suffice. Would they please be of utmost assistance as I make this transition in my life from a fruitless, careerless future to one rife with potential?
Then, upon submitting the change-of-major request, I will drift back down to Boon Hall, where I will consume a first-rate meal with only the choicest of ingredients. The food here is oh-so-very wondrous, after all.
After this fine dining experience, I will immediately head to The Forum meeting, where I will regrettably resign from my post as a writer. Writing, I will explain with solemnity of voice, will be the death of me if I keep at it any longer, and I must, may I reiterate, must step away from the pen. I will take my leave, fighting to keep from tearing up at the loss of these relationships. But they are literary types, and if I must cease to be a literary type, the worst company I could keep would be with those of my former profession. They would never understand the amount of wrestling I have made with this decision, and they would pressure me not to step down.
At this point in the day, I will take my entire Salinger collection and donate them to the Bailey Library. After all, since I will no longer be a writer, I will no longer be needing them. Other, future students might profit from the wisdom and construction of Nine Stories, but not I. Perhaps I will skim through “De Daumier-Smith’s Blue Period” one last time for whatever final gleanings I may come across. Then I will bid farewell to my old friend.
The key to changing the very core of your being comes in cutting off every single relationship and association that you keep currently. After my library trip, I will then be applying to transfer, yet again, to Pacific Islands Bible College in Mangilao, Guam. I apologize, Gia Rhigetti, but I will not be able to maintain a connection with you or your family, despite our impending proximity. How is the weather in Yona, and what should I pack?
Alright, people. In case you have yet to figure it out, it’s April Fool’s Day. I’m not quitting writing, and I’m not moving to Guam (and I’m not cutting off the Rhigettis). I hope you enjoyed the joke!