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The Daily Cardinal Est. 1892
Friday, May 27, 2022
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Jillian Rollins has high hopes for her freshman year at UW-Madison but will soon realize all of her hopes and dreams will come crashing down.

Incoming freshman blissfully unsure all her hopes for upcoming year to be ruthlessly crushed by inevitable

All articles featured in The Beet are creative, satirical and/or entirely fictional pieces. They are fully intended as such and should not be taken seriously as news.

18-year-old Jillian Rollins has high expectations for her first year at UW-Madison. Although she’s a bit of a home-body, she’s excited to move into her dorm room: “I’m going to decorate my walls with cute little lights, and I’m lofting my bed to make space for a futon,” she told us. When asked if she was worried about having to share a bathroom with 30 other girls she told me she was “sure it will be fine.” Little does she know that later this semester she’s going to wake up at 2:00 a.m. to pee and ram her head on the ceiling for the third time that week only to find that literally every single toilet is already full of shit upon arriving to the little girls’ room. And there’s no chance she’s going to get anything to stick to the walls in Sellery.

Regardless of her living space, Jillian made it clear that her number one priority will be succeed- ing in her classes: “I want to be a doctor, so I decided to take Calc 2 and Chemistry. I’ve been told those are extremely hard classes, but I got straight As when I was in high school, so I’m sure it’s nothing I can’t handle.” However,by December, Jillian will defi- nitely be changing her major to French or Psychology after she has to explain to her parents through snot and tears how she got straight Cs even though she pulled nearly three all-nighters a week studying integrals and intermolecular forces. But that’s not to say she wasn’t on Langdon Street every weekend.

And while Jillian’s relation- ship with her roommate is certain to turn sour when she is too mentally drained to per- form basic administrative tasks like doing dishes, taking out the trash, or cleaning the ketchup she just spilled on her futon, she anticipates making a bunch of new friends. “Maybe I’ll even find a boyfriend,” she mused. Little does she know that the closest she’ll come to love this school year is some 20-year-old finance major named Connor or Dylan slapping her ass at a frat party without permission.

On the bright side, Jillian is sure to learn a lesson this year more valuable than anything on her professors’ illegible power- points: life is nothing but misery and suffering until we inevitably turn back into dust.

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