dear federal financial aid,

thank you for screwing me up the butt, you always seem to know how i like it. problem is... you forgot the lube this time. and thank you for giving me hope for completing my education just a tad bit less stressfully and then dashing my hopes by trying to tell me that i just make way too much for you to be in this relationship with me. i guess you like to be the one in control, with all that money oozing out of your pockets. really? i'm a server. you've known that from the beginning. yea yea, i didn't tell you exactly what i'm making, but its not that far off. you know serving is a lot of under-the-table stuff. but didn't i tell you about my bills? my rent? my previously existing debt? its a doozie--and that is why i work 6 days a week, struggling from shift to shift, trying to cope with the fact that i had to be late on my first car payment ever in my life last month because i was dishing out way more than was entering my wallet, all in the name of higher education. and in the hopes that you would one day want to be there for me.

your friend ming-ling or whoever at your office today told me i wasn't good enough for you (actually, i know i'm too good for you!), after flirting with you and putting in a rough 6 months of effort. i guess i'll have to venture down other venues, looking for a soulmate; someone i can be in a relationship with for the 10-30 years after i finish my education.

so screw you right back. i'll make it on my own. thanks for coming through for me when i needed you most. sorry i have a job and can actually sustain my own life without foodstamps and government housing. if that's what it takes to be with you, i want no part of it.

sincerely,
ME.

p.s. your breath stinks and some days you have terrible b.o.