paper paper
I handed in a little piece of my work for the school paper to scrutinize... maybe they'll take me in.. pay me, feed me... need me. This is what I gave em': Since the start of this college experience, my life has been wrenched out of stability, provoking nothing but stress, poor grades, and empty pockets. The heavy course load placed upon me this semester has robbed me of my steady thirty hour per week job at the Warwick Petco. Grades far worse than those obtained in high school loom over me regardless of the added hours I have devoted to studying, leaving me wounded and slightly antisocial. My stomach is incredibly angry with me, as it is void of the obscene amounts of food it is used to devouring on my stable budget, and has thus requested I find a job, so I can spend more money on candy and coffee.
With full intentions of securing a job at the Middletown Petco for the semester, I attempted to manage my time effectively, and was ready to establish set hours when my car became unavailable for the first of many times in the past two months. I then attempted to secure a job on campus, but nothing seemed to captivate me, aside from the charity work at the coffee house in the Union. Unfortunately, the kitchen utensil I had decided I would not mind becoming was not creative enough for brewing Irish crème coffee.
I stopped looking for a while, becoming depressed at the draining of my bank account, paying the phone and insurance bills. Expenses seemed to appear out of no where, school bills showing their ugly faces.
I have often pondered writing for the paper. I attempted to do so in high school, but working so often never allowed much time for after school activities. The concept of actually writing for a job has always seemed very appealing, only daunted by the belief that my writing is not good enough for such. The field of engineering has me chafing, as I once thought math was the one thing I was actually decent at. The quest for my true talent is still underway.
I love to write, regardless of my ability to do so, bringing me to the door of the good 5-cent cigar. I will remain indifferent to payment or voluntary work; my stomach is now accustomed to eating its own inner lining. So here, lacking in topic and direction is my plea for a position as a member of your team, with or without physical benefits, for it’s enough to have something to do in the wee hours of the morning aside from stare blankly at the ceiling. The desire to feel as though my input is needed is slowly gnawing through me, pushing me out of the safety of my dorm room for more than just class and on weekends, in to the real world.
With coffee and candy.
-Sarah Andrea
greenapple324: oh hey... i applied for a position on the school paper
NOFXSucks14: oh yeah? how'd that do?
NOFXSucks14: go*?
greenapple324: dont know
NOFXSucks14: wonderful
greenapple324: they havent gotten back to me
NOFXSucks14: how nice of them
greenapple324: though.... i'm affraid they'll call me and say "well.. thanks for the interest, but you clearly have no talent"
greenapple324: *afraid
NOFXSucks14: walk in naked
NOFXSucks14: and be like, "im deep, you need me"
greenapple324: naked.... deep
greenapple324: lol
NOFXSucks14: then cry or something, all good writers do that
NOFXSucks14: yeah, and you could be eating crackers at the same time
NOFXSucks14: and cheese
greenapple324: or grapes?
NOFXSucks14: no, that's not right
greenapple324: :-P
With full intentions of securing a job at the Middletown Petco for the semester, I attempted to manage my time effectively, and was ready to establish set hours when my car became unavailable for the first of many times in the past two months. I then attempted to secure a job on campus, but nothing seemed to captivate me, aside from the charity work at the coffee house in the Union. Unfortunately, the kitchen utensil I had decided I would not mind becoming was not creative enough for brewing Irish crème coffee.
I stopped looking for a while, becoming depressed at the draining of my bank account, paying the phone and insurance bills. Expenses seemed to appear out of no where, school bills showing their ugly faces.
I have often pondered writing for the paper. I attempted to do so in high school, but working so often never allowed much time for after school activities. The concept of actually writing for a job has always seemed very appealing, only daunted by the belief that my writing is not good enough for such. The field of engineering has me chafing, as I once thought math was the one thing I was actually decent at. The quest for my true talent is still underway.
I love to write, regardless of my ability to do so, bringing me to the door of the good 5-cent cigar. I will remain indifferent to payment or voluntary work; my stomach is now accustomed to eating its own inner lining. So here, lacking in topic and direction is my plea for a position as a member of your team, with or without physical benefits, for it’s enough to have something to do in the wee hours of the morning aside from stare blankly at the ceiling. The desire to feel as though my input is needed is slowly gnawing through me, pushing me out of the safety of my dorm room for more than just class and on weekends, in to the real world.
With coffee and candy.
-Sarah Andrea
greenapple324: oh hey... i applied for a position on the school paper
NOFXSucks14: oh yeah? how'd that do?
NOFXSucks14: go*?
greenapple324: dont know
NOFXSucks14: wonderful
greenapple324: they havent gotten back to me
NOFXSucks14: how nice of them
greenapple324: though.... i'm affraid they'll call me and say "well.. thanks for the interest, but you clearly have no talent"
greenapple324: *afraid
NOFXSucks14: walk in naked
NOFXSucks14: and be like, "im deep, you need me"
greenapple324: naked.... deep
greenapple324: lol
NOFXSucks14: then cry or something, all good writers do that
NOFXSucks14: yeah, and you could be eating crackers at the same time
NOFXSucks14: and cheese
greenapple324: or grapes?
NOFXSucks14: no, that's not right
greenapple324: :-P