I have a degree from a well respected university. I just graduated in the spring, and I have been working dutifully at the Restaurant since. Many people ask me why I haven't gotten a "real" job, and it's quite simple, really. Before Feb was Feb (he was just Foreign Boyfriend back then), I was holding off on getting involved in a grown-up job because we were going to go back to Foreignland together. I didn't want to get full-time career work, just to up and leave after a few months for a far away land.

Now that Feb is gone, I have been listlessly and half-heartedly searching for a job, and have found lots that are appealing and spark my interest. There is one problem: I am not qualified for any of them. You see, readers, my degree is in English literature . . . and I don't want to be a teacher. This is a major problem. I don't regret my education; I love literature and thoroughly enjoyed school, and I believe that I have gained amazing skills that no other degree could have given me. However, having turned my back on my former job aspiration (journalism), I found myself at a loss when Feb left. I always assumed I would find something wonderful to work at in Foreignland where we would settle down happily for awhile before jetsetting around the world a few times until we wanted to make babies.

So, having rediscovered my independence and don't-need-to-worry-about-anyone-else-ness, I have gone back to school! That's right, readers, I now take part time classes on a full time schedule and work during the day. It all feels so grown up. It reminds me of the Full House episode where Uncle Jesse goes back to get his high school diploma and takes night classes and has to learn poetry. Except that I already know enough poetry to make the world go round, and am now sitting through hours and hours of lectures about economics and the market and the world of business.

Yes, I am enrolled in business classes. I have decided to become an event coordinator and marketer, and I really do find my classes fascinating and exciting. The only problem is, my shortest class is three hours long, while my longest (which I had today) is seven. SEVEN HOURS, readers. That really is incomprehensible to me. Don't these people know that I have the attention span of an eight year old child? Do they realize that I can't watch a movie without asking a million questions about what's going on because I am not patient enough to be quiet and find out? The longest class I ever took in four years at Respectable U was fifty minutes, and that was quite enough for me.

The good thing about the seven hour class is that because it's sooo long, I only have to go to it for six weeks. That means it is over with soon, but it also means that the midterm is in the third class! In addition, I have to leave my car in a sketchy parking lot near the closest transit pick up while I ride the bus for an hour to get to New School. Today, that parking lot overwhelmed my little car with a massive dose of sketchiness- I got a parking ticket! In a parking lot! Apparently the lot has a maximum stay of three hours, which is posted nowhere on any sign to be seen. Since my car was there for approximately nine hours while I went to the world's longest freakin' class, I can't deny that I deserved said ticket, though that does not stop me from being one angry girl. The ticket is $45, which really is not that much, but then I think that on a slow day at work, that could be all my tips right there! Gone! And it's not like I'm getting anything for that money! It just goes into some evil sketchy parking lot owner's wallet, while I, the poor student, struggles to keep my dry, red eyes from glazing over as a balding middle aged man drones into his sixth hour of speaking about pie charts and keeping the consumer happy!

What is this world coming to?