Dear Cheerleaders of the University I Attend as a Grad Student,

You have no idea how happy/crushed it made me to watch your practice as I walked out of the gym after desperately trying to get through a mile run and lift 10 lb weights (pathetic.). I hope you carefree, spirited-fingered people live it the eff up. My retired pom poms are truly envious and your secret biggest fan from afar. I would give anything to be back in those sparkling white nikes jumping around like a mad woman whilst yelling for a touchdown/basket. Instead, I'm totally paranoid that I'm getting mom arms.

Seasoned and Hating It,

P.S. Call me in a few years when everything that was once completely toned turns jigglier. I'll cry with you.

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