How to Regret a Decision

How to Regret a Decision

We’ve all eaten market chili at 11:59 on a Monday night crying in our beds rewatching the singing episode of Grey’s Anatomy, rethinking our decision to take five classes while still have a thriving social life. We’ve all slipped in the basement of Old K due to a sad puddle of Keystone, and wished we just stayed in bed eating market chili. We’ve all tried to make a wrap in Peirce because we’re above the bowl issue, but instead pissed off the entire panini press line because the tortilla broke and quinoa is spilling everywhere.

Anywho, this village is too small to have lived a perfect, non-problematic life here. Maybe you got it out of your system your first semester here, or you’re just steamrolling this college experience to be one huge pile of what-the-frick. So how do we remedy this regret?

Maybe call a loved one. This can be a parent who pretends you don’t drink, an ex-boyfriend who definitely doesn’t need to hear about your failed conquests, or a very cool grandma that is open to hearing about illegal substances. Tell them a hypothetical situation in which a theoretical college-aged student possibly did a stupid thing. See their response. Gage how bad your decision was. Then laugh and tell them how much you’re studying and finding yourself in college. Ask them to send a picture of your dog. Hang up the phone and cry.

If your mom doesn’t pick up, go to plan B. Walk into a crowded area. Peirce is a good option. Really soak in the large amounts of humans populating the area. See how they react to seeing your face. Do you get sympathetic looks? A hug? Cringing? Do you run into someone and have the uncontrollable urge to throw up the eggs you just put into your person and fast walk in the opposite direction?

Maybe that idea isn’t floating your boat. Maybe you need to ask someone you admire who you remind them of. If they say Emma Watson’s performance in the Bling Ring, you’re fine. If they say Zac Efron’s singing in High School Musical, you’ve got big fish to fry.

And if all else fails, drop your phone in the toilet. Bonus points if it actually flushes. This way you can’t read any damaging texts you may have sent, and you have a reason to drive to Columbus to get your phone fixed. Dwell in the solitude of being far away from this village. Eat your feelings. Bonus points if you cry at the Genius Bar.

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