The Quest for Financial Independence

Monday, March 30, 2009

It’s been a trying time in my life. With the semester coming to an end, the last thing I want to have to worry about is Monday: a constant stormy cloud over my sunny disposition. In college, it’s hard to manage your money with the yearnings for fast food around the corner after a long day of sitting in class. I mean, honestly, who really wants to go home and make something when you can stop by a drive-thru and get a tasty, greasy burger? Then there’s the ever-present need to go to Wal-Mart. You go in to buy bread and eggs and come out with a newly released DVD, junk food and a goldfish. All this to say, my financial aid money did not stretch out through the semester. I am broke and in desperate need of a job. Well, another job. Although I work in the School of Music office, I only get 14 hours a week at $6.55/hour. Definitely not enough to pay my $350/month rent, cable, electricity, gas, car payment as well as money to live on. So I soldier on to find my destiny..

Tuesday, March 31 2009

Alas, my quest moves onward. After many months of searching to no avail, I finally got a call from Sonic about an interview. Now, I’m not all that thrilled about running people’s food out to them, but I need the money badly. I can’t afford to overdraft my account or humble myself (for the third time) and ask my parents for help. No, I am an adult and I will do what I must to make ends meet. I’ve never really had an interview before, so I am slightly apprehensive. What will they ask me? I hope they don’t have me do math in my head! My fate rests in the hands of someone else and that’s scary.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Oh, what a perfect day to have an interview. I can barely pay attention in class today as I agonize over what I will say and if they will like me enough to hire me. I reassure myself that I am a hard worker and that something will come along soon to sweep me off my feet from financial burden. I go to my interview at 5:23 p.m. I sit and wait patiently as the manager interviews my competition. I size them up as I fidget with my hands. Psh, they’ve got nothing on me. I am the only one there in a nice blouse and jeans with ballet flats. All the other wannabe employees have on t-shirts and holy jeans. At least I dressed to impress. It is now my turn to wow the judges. Behind my calm exterior, my mind is flying though drawers of “right” answers. All goes well until I am asked to do a math equation in my head. I freeze. I tentatively give an answer. I am wrong. My interview is done. I am to expect a call by Friday. I blew it. April Fool’s, I suck.

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