Short Skirt, Long Jacket

opinion Essay
1454 words
1454 words

Short Skirt, Long Jacket

After stuffing my brains with knowledge of Communication, Controls, and Signal Processing and then force-feeding my eyes with 150 pages of text for my literature class, I leave the library dispirited and walk slowly home. My mind has left my body and is hovering overhead, observing me go through the simple motion of placing one foot in front of the other on the sidewalk. What seems to be an effortless action is actually a complex system of muscles, nerves, and electric impulses that culminate in a carefully rehearsed pattern, the perfected sloppy shuffle of my feet.

Totally discouraged and ready to go to sleep, I enter my room and continue with my automated performance for my suspended self. The first thing I do when I get back is to take out my contacts. Since it also happens to be Sunday, I must add an enzymatic cleaner tablet to the storage solution. I do this with an efficiency that would put any clock to shame. I then drag myself to the bathroom sink and brush my teeth, returning to my room to Oxy cleanse my face. I briefly toy with the idea of wearing my retainers but decide against it and leave them to hibernate peacefully in their protective plastic yellow case. When I am done with this ritual, I indulge myself with the thought of falling asleep, but I know I have work waiting for me.

It’s two o’clock and my brain is still good. I marvel at its ability to think, at its ability to perform under such adverse conditions. However, those superior skills tend to annihilate their own greatness when the part of my brain that finds ways to procrastinate continues to be productive. My blinding intelligence formulates some complex string of logic that tells me it is okay to give up, and I begin to head for bed, but then I remember…I have Cake.

I want a girl with a mind like a diamond.

I want a girl who knows what's best.

I want a girl with shoes that cut and

Eyes that burn like cigarettes.

No, not cake the dessert, although I enjoy that also. That kind of cake tends to appear on birthdays, which is when I will consume it, but for everyday pleasure there are Pop Tarts from the vending machine.

In this essay, the author

  • Explains that they used to scoff at teenagers who went over their credit card limits and believed they would be the type of person who could handle their money responsibly.
  • Opines that they are not embarrassed to take the elevator to the third floor when there are eight floors in the building. they like bragging about how little sleep they get, and sometimes put on makeup to emphasize tired eyes.
  • Opines that they will try a short skirt and long jacket this halloween, since halloween is only one month away, so they might rethink this thought.
  • Opines that music transports them, and when they hear this song, they walk through the halls with an extra beat to their step. they like the brainlessness of being able to scream lyrics right after the singer has said them.
  • Opines that they are a product of american pop culture, and andy warhol was onto something with his silk-screened prints of mass-produced coca cola bottles and american icons.
  • Explains that eating bad food and not worrying about the consequences, listening to a "buzz song", buying things on whims, and subscribing to the popular trend of today is some kind of escapism.
  • Narrates how they leave the library dispirited and walk slowly home. the complex system of muscles, nerves, and electric impulses culminate in the perfected sloppy shuffle of their feet.
  • Opines that their american upbringing has degraded their sense of value, which has been developing over the years.
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