Fed Up

Yesterday I basically gave up a job at the prestigious Federal Reserve Bank, Atlanta branch. I feel sick now. I couldn't sleep last night.

Well, the job wasn't quite what I thought I'd be able to take on...by the listing description "temporary" they meant "a full year commitment". Now it's looking like I'll be taking a third class in the fall and so was uncomfortable adding what would be effectively be a third job (after classes and my school job) to my workload without thinking something would be giving out.

Maybe I'm too chicken to take on another job, thinking my grades (or mental health) will suffer from an additional 20 hour per week loss of time. Maybe I'm being lazy by not being willing to work extra; I'm not that rich, I have huge student loans and upcoming surgeries to think about...am I that well off that I can't work? No, I'm not. I hear about people working three jobs to feed their kids and is that media-hype or am I just a prissy college boy?

Oh, but that $12 an hour x 20 hours a week = $800 a month would have been sooo sweet. I think this is partially the increasing frustration I'm feeling being continually poor. I really know I should fight the increasing urge to substitute school with work (for income's sake) because I don't want to end up ABD, a not uncommon tale I hear.

Probably every week that passes during July I'll be thinking it's $200 I gave up. It's not just the money, too, it's the boredom. I'll have to try and find productive means to occupy my time. Refining my term paper for publication is one means. Maybe I could volunteer or something. Ideally, I'd find a ten week (paid) internship, but the good ones are in Washington, and already started. My summer is really shot with having my comprehensive exam so late.

So, I could have lied and said "yes" to the commitment of taking the hourly job at the Fed, knowing I'd leave as soon as the first problem set was passed out fall semester. But, Jiminy Cricket jumped on my shoulder and told me not to do it, and I had to listen. I guess nice guys finish last.

Whatever, I don't have the job.