So far, this semester bites, HARD.
First of all, there are way too many good books to read and such little time. I want to read all of the books shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize, and Jeffrey Eugenides (from Michigan!!) has a new book out called The Marriage Plot. (That reminds me, since when did we switch from underlining books to italicizing them? I was really out of the loop for that one.)
Secondly: money, money, money! I was signed up for fifteen courses, but then I dropped some credits in order to pay for it. I set up a tuition payment arrangement, like I do every semester, but my fifteen credits payment was adjusted to be $825.00, which I definitely couldn't afford. So, after dropping the courses I called and asked to have the payment plan updated which puts me at a cool $360.00 a month plan. A week after updating it via phone I received an email confirming the update. But a week after that I am debited for $825.00 smackers. This put my checking account well into the negative. That's totally awesome considering the number of other bills I owe this month.
Thirdly, there are courses I can't take for a number of reasons. One reason is money, another reason is that I didn't obtain the permission for a late sign up until it was SO LATE that there was no way I was going to be able to catch up in a five credit math course, and another reason is that my work changed their hours and there was no way I was going to be able to attend an early morning class I sortakinda wanted to attend. Sortakinda because I could have used the letter of recommendation that would have inevitably come from enrolling in the course. But sortakinda not because of so many reasons, including the fact that I've taken more literature courses than I need. Plus, I have the syllabus and can read everything that would have been assigned, much of which I've already read, and I doubt I would have learned anything in that course, anyway.
What I mean to say is that I am beyond that course. Once upon a time I took a course with that professor and what first seemed great turned out to be really disappointing, like, disappointing on an existential level -- if that makes any sense. After that, I dropped out of school. So, there's that. Plus, I have dreams about the whole experience. Maybe it's better to call them nightmares. It's funny; there's no violence and gore, but everything in the dream always moves so slowly. I'm always being stalked by something or someone, and I'm always filled with a sense of dread and despair. I'm also uncomfortably aware that part of why I want that letter so badly is because I want some sense of closure. I'm always after closure and I almost never get it. I guess I want my closure to be this moment where I prove to myself that I can do really well in the class, and that I'm smart, and that any praise I received before wasn't utter bullshit. I have this fantasy of being this deadly serious student who is absolutely relentless in this class, humorless and without mercy. The idea of trying to leave community college without that is . . . difficult. I've spent more than a year thinking about the moment I'd receive that closure and now the end of that arc has crumbled from between my fingers, leaving something less like closure and more like an abrupt and anti-climatic ending, one of those endings that leaves you saying FHAT THE WUCK??
Fourthly: work, scmerk! Basically, I have every reason to believe downsizing is going to happen in a few months from now. At first, I was really freaked out, but then I psyched myself up for a layoff. I was going to quit in August 2012, anyway, and it's not like I make that much more than I would on unemployment. So, it wouldn't be the end of the world. I started thinking about the things I could do with more time on my hands. If layoffs occurred it'd happen right around the time when I start working on my college applications. I could write a novel! I could become a boxing champion! So on and so forth. Then I psyched myself up so well that when I started to see signs that at least *I* would not be let go, I started to feel sort of. . . disappointed?
See, I took a couple days off of work this month for my anniversary. Then I signed up for early morning volunteer work on the day of my anniversary because it's what I want to do. It's not that I want to sleep in all day and be lazy. Instead, I'd like to do something I'm passionate about.
The problem with having a job that you don't dread going to is that it's hard to get away from it. Awhile back there was a job opening at a local nonprofit that I care about. It was just doing clerical work, but it would have been a foot in the door. Even if it didn't lead to anything, at least I would have been working for a group that I believe in and care about. Yet, I didn't apply. I just figured, well, I have a decent paying job with benefits now so why mess it up? Not only am I not messing it up by not applying elsewhere, I don't even apply to move up at work. I don't apply for higher paying positions. I just stay in the same place because no one bothers me too much that I can't deal with them, and because I am in that dull numb zombie place where it's easier to just deny my desires than fluff up my feathers and pretend that I actually want to move up. Really, moving up at work is the last thing I want to do!
A lot of people would love to trade places with me, I know. But I can't help but want so much more.
Sometimes I think I shove my soul so far down into myself that one day my insides will explode and everything inside me is going to cover the entire city. But instead of having guts and organs I'd be filled with red, green, and gold paint, peacocks, pinwheels, James Dean, a fedora, the three Stooges, malted milkshakes, a zebra, Tom Waits' piano, Mae West, and maybe the Golden Gate Bridge.
So, basically, I've decided that this year I'm going to pop my collar. ALL MY COLLARS. It'll be my signature look. People will see me, recognize me, and say to their friends, "Hey, there's that douche bag who's always popping her collar." Yeah.
Secondly, September and October will be devoted to getting my finances in order. And thirdly, I will try and take my cool professor's advice and write everyday. I'm going to try for at least 1,000 words -- not this crap! Real, literary, nonblog writing. Non-diary writing. Non-censored yet non-gut spilling.
Also, I didn't receive an invitation to the honor society, even though I have the GPA for it. I'm not sure how all that works, but I emailed the professor in charge because I've decided to end this habit I have of being a passive student outside of the classroom.
People who pop their collars should be aggressive or they might as well not pop them at all!
This transformation is going to involve listening to copious amounts of old Ani Difranco songs.
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