I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back to sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about whether or not I should go back to college, something I'm in the midst of seriously considering, a decision that weighs a lot. Should I go back, a twenty-six year old sophomore, and rack up a bunch of debt, when I'm not sure of the reason I'd be going, other than just not knowing what else to do at this point? Should I go back and dig a hole of thousands of dollars, when I'm not sure I'd ever graduate, or even want to graduate? Is my driving force purely fear and boredom? Isn't there a better way to solve the problem of my life? I don't know.

When I finally fell back to sleep I dreamt that Stephen Fry invited me to stay with him. When I arrived to his large cabin filled with mazes and African art, he was in a mood. He was depressed. We talked for a long time about what was making both of us miserable while he was sprawled out on the floor staring at the ceiling. After awhile, he sat up and asked me to go to Avonlea with him and to be his protégé.

"Avonlea like Anne of Avonlea Avonlea?" I asked.

"Yes, that's the one," he laughed.

And then, of course, the dream ended. It was the perfect solution, though. Sod college. Don't worry about it. Don't worry about what else, if not college, you might do to stop feeling like a pointless jerk all the time.

Go to Avonlea with Stephen Fry. It's simple.