English Student Changes Major to Mexican Cuisine


Just think of an 8:30 on a Monday morning in the middle of Kingston’s brutal winter.
When I picked my major I was pretty fucking stoked. Just kidding. I started planning the layout of my cardboard box. I was going to paint the walls tricolour because attending Queen’s University was the only thing that I was ever going to have going for me. Being an English Major was like sitting in a room full of people eating pizza and being celiac and lactose intolerant. VERY FRUSTRATING. It’s right in front of you but you can’t eat it. You can smell it but you can’t fucking eat it.  With English, you have a degree but it is as useless and disappointing as falling for a fuckboi. Ergo, to avoid the disappointment of sitting down for a job interview and saying that you gained a degree that cost more in textbooks than your first paycheque, I changed my degree to Mexican Cuisine.  The application of Mexican Cuisine in life is more applicable than whether or not Hamlet was fucked up.
Trying to get a degree in Mexican cuisine is no easy feat feast. You think it’s easy making a burrito but try and master the art of it. Pinterest, is very misleading. Your burrito is never going to look as good as you think it is going to. That is until you major in it. For my thesis I have applied it to sleeping. Making a burrito out of my blankets and hiding snacks in-between, has been the greatest achievement of my life. Granted, the research that I had to subject myself to resulted in the gaining of an exorbitant amount of weight, and being stalked by the Kingston Squirrels. I was like Snow White but instead of the animals loving me, they would follow me home and be waiting outside my door all night. 
Even though, I really will live in a cardboard box, and the only place that will ever employ me is Taco Time, I will never be cold from God’s tears at the beginning of September when classes start. I am no longer a brick of ice and I now know how to protect myself from Kingston’s famous Winter Semester in my tricolour cardboard mansion surrounded by the fucked up animal population and other Art’s students who know they are just as unemployable as I am.