Sup Little,
So it’s Big/Little week.
I have a little disclaimer for you, that being, I do love you, in case the title of this article threw you off. I love you oh so very much, so don’t get me wrong, I picked you like you picked me, and the universe aligned and we are forever tied in the bonds of sisterhood. Meeting you on the second day of recruitment was the moment I knew that you would be an amazing addition to our chapter, and I knew that I wanted you so badly. I cannot wait to watch you grow in the sorority and live up to the potential that we all see in you. That being said, clue week is kicking my ass. Quite literally. It is killing me, I am an empty corpse like barely even breathing life form as I am writing this letter instead of paying attention in my political science class because for some unknown reason you seem to be the only thought on my mind these past few weeks as I drown in Facebook posts, glitter and t-shirts. Since I am an English major (not a bio major as suggested in my clue on the first day. Sorry, but it’s so much more fun when you don’t know who I am), I decided to write you a little poem to sum up my feelings and vent out my frustrations. It’s what we do. Without further ado, check this out.
Recruitment was a blast, t’was love at first sight,
But this week has got me all geared up to fight.
The crafts cover my living room; my roommates are getting bent,
It’s possible this blessing could be hell sent
There’s glitter on the floor, there’s glitter in my hair,
When I went to bed at three, I trailed confetti up the stairs.
The canvases and paints are spread out all over the floor
I’m taking a small break, my crafting hand’s getting sore.
Netflix keeps asking if I’m still watching,
Interrupting my designs of your reveal shirts, oh yeah, we’re matching!
I apologize for the tear streaks that are lining this canvas,
But my writing shaking, making me anxious.
A.C. Moore and Michaels are burning a hole in my wallet
Dude, my hand hurts so bad, I may have to chop it.
I’ve used all my brushes, there’s ringing in my ears,
I should be able to wash them in a cup of my tears.
You know I can’t wait to teach you our ritual and pride,
But that’s only if I’m living when reveal day arrives.
If not, you can bury me in my soft letters and sweats,
Surrounded by the Diet Coke cans that drowned me to death.
Little, believe me, I love you completely, 100 percent!
But trust me when I say, little, I expect a g-lit.
Now that I got that out of my system, I feel much better! I am so excited to reveal myself to you soon! Love you so much my wonderful little ray of sunshine! Can’t wait to call you mine!
Love,
Your mentally exhausted, borderline neurotic Big