4.8: My GPA when I graduated top of my class in high school.

5: Percentage of my college tuition covered by the inaugural Just a Taste of Hope Ayn Rand Memorial Scholarship.

7: The number of meals I can get out of one “Two for $25″s at Chili’s.

14.7: The interest rate on my private student loans that I was coerced into signing in a dark forest under the hush of night.

99: Problems and yes, actually, a bitch is all of them. I have 99 roommates and they all are awful.

100: Percentage of my academic scholarship that went towards a required seminar titled “Ayn Rand: It’s Kind of Poor People’s Faults They’re Poor.”

127: My monthly budget for gas, groceries, and a $5 Literotica Premium subscription.

147: The number of dates I’ve gone on with men whose favorite book is Infinite Jest so I could get a free meal.

182: The number of way-too-intimate first date picnics I’ve taken women on because I couldn’t afford to take them to a physical restaurant.

202.06: The amount of interest that capitalizes on my loans every day. See also: the percent my will to live decreases every day.

666: The number of times I’ve tried selling my soul to the Devil in exchange for paying off my loans.

777: The number of Gods I’ve turned to for help.

1,200: How much Roommate Number 47’s parents give her a month for allowance. See also: How much Roommate Number 47 spends on margaritas and bikini waxes per month.

1,443: The number of times, collectively, that God, The Devil, and Ayn Rand weren’t there for me.

1,473: Months left until I’m debt-free.


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