, , , , , ,


Don’t worry, kitteh. I can handle that part.

I have some sad news to share.  My self-pity has taken a turn for the worse and died sometime in the night. Oh wait. That’s good news. Yay.

Things are looking up. Ish. I’m sending out a lot of resumes and making some phone calls – sooner or later, something will happen. (As long as we’re being optimistic, let’s go with “sooner.”) I even took my Dom DeLuise greeting off my cell phone (“Oh my God, I can’t believe you called! This is so great! They’re going to be so upset that they missed you! Leave your name and number and I’ll have them call you back. They’re going to be so excited!  Oh, this is wonderful! Holy shit, who knew?”) That’s especially bittersweet since he’s gone now. And MoC hated it, which made it even funnier in my book. Anyway, I’m all kinds of professional now. “You’ve reached 816-555-5555. I’m unable to take your call at the moment, but please leave your name and number and I will return your call as quickly as possible. Thank you!”

In the meantime, my house is getting cleaner, which can’t be a bad thing. Plus, it’s easier to keep up with homework – although I’m afraid we flunked the last project. We were supposed to redesign a fake website for a fake company and … it was bad. Very bad. We also had to write a paper – which was good.  So between the A paper and the C website, getting a B on the project would be a gift. If we get a B, I can probably still squeeze an A- out of the class.

When I started this journey, I was pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to get good grades. I had to write a lot of papers and create a lot of PowerPoints and I complained every word of the way – but it wasn’t so bad. My goal was just to get the degree and it didn’t matter to me if I got C’s or B’s or A’s. Luckily, I got the A’s and it became a point of pride for me.

Then I started the Phoenix thing and had to work with teams – and my stomach has been rolling since November. Depending on other people for 30% of your grade is not fun (and I don’t recommend it, either). To make myself stop freaking out about it, I told myself that getting the degree was the important part. It shouldn’t matter what my grades were.

Newsflash: It matters!  I’ve filled out several applications that requested GPA information. In this economy, you can bet they’re going to double-check that, too. Maybe if you have tons of experience and already have a degree it wouldn’t be so important. But for someone relying on their education to get in the door, it isn’t so important. It’s crucial.

I’ve decided to kill anyone who screws up my grades. This will work on several fronts. It will eliminate the asshole who caused me to get a B. It will release pent-up frustration over my job situation. And finally, it’s good exercise.