December 22nd 2am - Navy: Out. Au Pair: In

I'm as gifted at talking my way out of situations as Angelina Jolie is at acquiring children.
My college English major required three semesters of a foreign language. I have the foreign language capabilities of a fruit fly. In my third week of Spanish I traipsed past the disabilities office. I got an idea. I walked into the office.
"Hello. How may I help you?" the receptionist asked.
"I have a foreign language disability and desperately need to talk to someone about it."
I administered my champion wretched look. I have since been informed that my champion wretched look resembles that of a two-year-old taking a poop shooter.
Leftover Queen looked at me like I had asked her what gym she belonged to.
Two weeks later, after affirming that I lost sleep over the class, didn't comprehend anything, cheated on quizzes and tests, and was suffering emotionally and physically from a condition I invented, the University of San Francisco waived my foreign language requirement. I love private schools.
When I embarked on compiling quotes for an unwritten twenty-page Shakespeare final essay due in two days, a friend called and informed me I was going to Reno with two of our friends. After internally protesting for one point two seconds, I agreed. I went to Reno. I brought my laptop with the intention of writing the essay. The first night, I exploited it's jukebox aptitude. We got plotzed off Jager and rum. My laptop's second occupation for the night was as a shield in a pillow-fight. The screen ruptured. I turned in the final paper, worth twenty percent of my grade, eight days late. My great-grandfather died, I was emotionally and physically encumbered from a situation I invented, and received an A in the class. I love private schools.

In June I signed up for the Navy. In July I "depped" in. As a DEP (Delayed Enlistment Program), they tested my eyesight (right eye: 20/400, left eye: 20/FC - I couldn't read the one large letter at the top of the chart), asked me questions like do I have any scars, withdrew blood after missing the vein three times, had me sign contracts, and get sworn in by an all-mighty uniform man.
In December I established that being caged in a five-year military contract was as appealing to me as eating a baby. My great-aunt was dying from the swine flu, my family needed me, and I was grieved mentally and physically from circumstances I invented. The US Navy dropped me from the program.
Instead, I'm going to be an au pair in New Zealand for five young terrors aged nine weeks to nine years.

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