By Abby Hoyt, Co-Editor-in-Chief
The following email was inspired by real life events.
Dear Professor,
I’m incredibly sorry to inform you that I will not be able to turn in that ten page paper due tomorrow at 11:47 a.m. or attend class at all for that matter. For you see, I’ve had an accident. I know what you’re thinking; “This is just another one of my procrastinator students emailing at 1:00 a.m. asking for an extension.” Well, for once you are sorely mistaken. You see, earlier this evening I was the victim of a terrible travesty.
I was at the library writing a different paper for a different class and got up to go to the bathroom. On the way back from the bathroom, a book caught my eye. It was the perfect book. The one that would have been a spectacular addition to the essay I had, of course, already written for your class. I took it down off the shelf and immediately felt my shoulder plummet towards the ground with the weight of this book. I looked up at the sky to ask God for the strength to help me carry this book back to my desk when I saw yet another book that would have been perfect for your class! Just my luck! I stacked that book on top of my other one and continued down the aisle back to my laptop where the essay for another class (not yours, of course) was waiting for me. Before I knew it I had quite the stack of books that were all miraculously related to your course. I had never been more excited to do research for a paper I had already written in all my life!
Unfortunately, my intense excitement and passion for learning caused me to miss a step on the library staircase and send me spiraling down to the bottom level. I hit my head on the concrete floor and sprained my ankle, but worst of all, the books—the beautiful books for my ADDITIONAL research—went flying through the air and out the window. Oh no! Now nobody will know about the brilliant new research regarding agricultural practices of serfs in Western Europe during the Middle Ages! Please forgive me for not being able to recall the findings of this Earth-shattering work, but I did hit my head pretty darn hard.
So, my initial plan for tomorrow was to leave my room around 6 a.m. and crawl all the way to your classroom so that I can attend your seminar at 11 a.m., but I knew I would faint on the way there from heat exhaustion or pain intolerance because my newly implemented Buddhist lifestyle encourages me to purify my body and prevents me from taking any sort of anti-pain medication.
I now acknowledge the absurdity and futility of this journey, so instead I will appear in class via the drone I bought off Amazon last week when I was bored in class (again—not your class, of course). If the drone malfunctions, I will get notes from one of my more reliable peers. Please let me know if there’s any other way I can make up missed the class time. Thank you so much for your unfailing understanding of my predicament. I hope to see you as soon as soon as I am allowed to leave my bed as recommended by my doctor.
Sincerely,
Your Humble Millennial
From the print edition published Oct. 5, 2016
