Friday, September 08, 2006
(8:07 AM) | Adam Kotsko:
Friday Afternoon Confessional: A Professional of Penury
I confess that yesterday I was pleasantly surprised when I checked my bank balance online and found that the payment for one week of market research had arrived, a few days early even. I confess that before receiving this payment, my bank balance had been $31.53, for about two weeks (note that I have it memorized -- a product of checking daily for said payment).I confess that I'm a little disturbed at having acquired such an ability to remain calm in such situations, but given my present lifestyle, the options were either to learn how to be calm, or else to kill myself. Or I guess I could drop down to part time on the PhD, but that was somehow never a live option.
I confess that I'm not very excited about this school year, specifically the coursework side of it. All my courses seem like they'll be very good, but my experience of intensive reading this summer has made me feel ready to do more work independently. I also confess that I'm feeling somewhat disoriented by the transition from my hermit lifestyle to being out and about several days in a row.
I confess that the admissions office gave me false hope when they mentioned that the average age for CTS's incoming class is 25 this year -- they failed to mention that apparently every single one of those young women is married. I confess that it wasn't until I had graduated from college that I definitely learned where a wedding ring is normally worn, in the hopes of possibly meeting someone at work back in Bourbonnais (hopefully it wouldn't have been unethical for the data entry guy to date a patient). I also learned that in Bourbonnais, the lack of a wedding ring on a woman my age indicates that said woman is merely engaged.
I confess that I was on public transit around 3:30 today and that I'm going to try to avoid that from now on, because high school students are pretty obnoxious.
I confess that the other day, I walked by a house in Hyde Park and thought to myself, "That guy has such nice grass -- why can't he at least put some straight lines on it when he mows?" Old mower instincts die hard. But seriously -- he had used the old "go around and around until you hit the middle" method, like a ten-year-old uses.
I confess that I'm in love with Feist and listen to her album probably twice a day at least.
I confess that not all the slots for regular features have been filled.
