Treat Yo Self

20. Austin, TX. Studying Anthropology and Arabic @ UT Austin. Happy. Atheist. Hufflepuff.


You gotta learn how to be funny, man.

Tonight’s one of those nights where it’s difficult to stay optimistic. I had a program tonight that I worked really hard on with my boss. A few people showed up but they were late and Daniele had to pester them to actually sit down. This kind of stuff happens a lot and in a way I’m used to it. But I guess since I had a really successful program last week I started tonight with unrealistic expectations. 

But really, why were my expectations unrealistic? I realize it’s difficult to get college students to come out to programs and that’s a constant struggle for all RAs but this was a totally quality program. 

We had tons of free food, a great MC, good music, the models totally rocked it on the runway, and we gave really useful tips on how to dress professionally and behave in interviews. Still only like 20 people showed up in a room that could have held almost 100. 

I usually try to remind myself as I start to sink into my brief post program depression that when I was just a resident I didn’t go to a lot of programs either but it’s hard to not let it get to you at least a little bit. It’s easy to say, “oh, yeah fuck those residents they’re all little shits anyways” and believe me I have, and they are. It’s harder to take a critical look at my life and try to imagine how I can be better, how I can add that extra spark to make apathetic college students come to programs that they could actually benefit from. 

Times like these I have to ask “What would Leslie Knope do?”  (I like to imagine Leslie was a super kick ass RA in college who put on totally bangin’ programs and got straight A’s) Lately I’ve been asking myself this question quite a bit, among others…Who keeps screaming in the elevators? When will I ever have time to catch up on Fringe? How do I track down and disembowel the people who keep clogging the boys bathroom on my floor with their massive corn filled shits?…And the conclusion I always come back to is that she would woman up, slap a smile on her face, and get the fuck back to work.

So that’s what I plan on doing…after I listen to “Flower” by Amos Lee about 43 times.