IMR: 1998: August: 06 -- Monday, 10:44 p.m.
Our Apartment, Makiki, Hawai`i
The only thing that sucks more than a bad day is a bad day that starts looking pretty damn good and then suddenly turns to complete crap.

Went downtown yesterday for my interview, got offered the job right there. Got to drool over a frickin' monster of a webserver, chatted with a guy who regularly shoots the breeze with the CEO of Motorola, swooned at the vision and sheer ambition of the place, and heard I'd get parking and a chance to travel and bask in the glow of heads of industry and government bigwigs.

Told my mom that taking the job would mean I'd have to take a break from school, and she was actually okay with it, agreeing that it's one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. Told my dad and... well, he didn't leap across the table and throttle me.

Told both my campus employers that I might be going away, and both said they like having me around so much they'd see what they could do about hiring me as a non-student, work-from-home independent contractor.

Bad day? When I put it like that, sounds like I hit the jackpot, doesn't it?

Except right now this awesome agency can only offer me a part-time position, meaning Jen won't be able to quit her job simply because we need the medical insurance. Our day-to-day schedule would continue to be a convoluted mess of darting hither and yon, and our net income probably won't change.

Except there's a heap of red tape at UH governing independent contractors, including a $4,000 cap on annual earnings, meaning I'd probably be better off just dropping the work altogether, and boy oh boy will that make me popular.

Except -- goddamn it -- I don't want to leave school, 'cause I know if I do it'll be harder than hell to go back. Besides, I just got an essay published in the Student Handbook about how I finally realized how important a degree is. It'd be kind of pathetic if I dropped out now.

So today I've been a complete wreck. Coming so close to everything working out, then waking up to find things shot to pieces, point by point.

And tonight, Jen having grudgingly gone to bed alone, I've been sitting here, running my brain at 14 billion RPM, biting my nails and pulling my hair, wondering, "How can I possibly make this work?"

I had to plot it all out. Set down an ideal, figure out what's negotiable and what's not. I thought and thought and thought...

  1. Okay. I should stay in school. If only because two of the three classes I've got only come around once a year and are damn hard to get. Besides, I'm getting so very close to almost thinking about maybe graduating. I can give up that third course, but not the others.
  2. Clearly the classes are the only things that can't be shuffled around, schedule wise. And they are -- yes! -- both in the morning. (The third one was in the afternoon, and would have caused a whole other mess anyway.) I can continue to watch Katie when Jen's at work. No day care!
  3. Wait a minute. Two classes still means six credits, which means half-time enrollment, which means I'm still eligible to keep my student help jobs! But... what about this other job?
  4. Of course! Since both campus jobs are now willing to let me claim hours worked at home, I can spend any free block of time during the week at this amazing, exciting, sexy new office downtown!

And I was stunned. Did I just figure out how to do it all? Take classes, keep both my student-help jobs and take this awesome new position? All fitting neatly within the scheduling limitations of Jen's job, thus fulfilling our our daycare-free parenting decree?

Hit the jackpot indeed!

Woo! I had to write mom and dad, tell them I didn't have to quit school. Ask them to chip in for tuition after all.

Then I wondered, "How much is tuition for six credits?"

So I zipped over to PAE to find out.

"The deadline to pay your tuition and fees has passed. Since payment was not received, your registration was canceled."

Well, fuck.

Guess I'm a dropout after all. Guess I'm leaving -- hell, losing -- my campus jobs after all. Guess I better kick ass at this new job, 'cause now it's all I've got.

Fuck. I'm going to bed.


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© Ryan Kawailani Ozawa · E-Mail: ozawa@hawaii.edu · Created: 6 August 1998 · Last Modified: 9 August 1998