.. vim: set syntax=rst: Waiter Diary: This suit was a great find. ========================================= I remember when I got it. I got off the bus after school a few stops early and walked to the thrift store and after I at the old records and tapes and books and art work, I looked for white shirts to wear to work. They're always getting stained eventually and it's crazy expensive to buy them new. And that's when I found the suit. Dark grey with faint stripe pattern. I remember when I bought it, the lady ringing me up commented how this was quite a find. That thrift store in particular is interesting. The staff is exclusively rich old ladies. They all volunteer at the shop to help raise money for whatever charity the shop supports. But also it feels like conspicuous leisure. Like, notice how I'm so wealthy that I prefer not to be paid for my labor. You couldn't afford what I'm worth so I'll just do it for free. Anyhow, I mention all that to say that while I don't know anything about fancy clothes, this lady ringing me up sure did, and she was impressed. today I wore the suit for an interview for an internship today. A paid one, too. I make sure to ask that right away after the soul-crushing disappointment of the last one. It's at an oil and gas company. They want to build a model to predict energy consumption based on weather. When it gets hot, people use air conditioning more. So, that means more electricity, which is generated by burning natural gas. This is the stuff I've been geeking out on so hard at school. I've been studying my textbook like it contains the secret to infinite cosmic power. I rode the bus out to the oil company's office, wearing the suit, and when I got to the building, I walked through the glass doors, and into the lobby, and I caught my reflection, and I looked like I fit in here. Normally, I would have felt intimidated being there. Not today. This suit was like a space suit, keeping me safe in an alien environment. The interview went well. If they hire me, I'd come in three days a week, and go to school on the other two. It'd be a separate source of money, but also, it's not crazy that I get hired full-time when I graduate soon. And I feel like I have this job in the bag. The guy I met, Brian, mentioned he had called the department, asked for their best statistics undergraduate student, and Dr. A told them it was me. It was intense when he said that. There's some other really bright students. I think the only thing I have on them is that I'm really focused. I pick at stuff until it makes sense to me even when the class has moved on to the next chapter. I remember when Ash came over after I picked up the suit and I showed it to her. She's funny -- she still plays that whole "I'm too cool to care about anything and I might float away forever any minute" but I saw her smiling when I tried it on. I said, "It's not bad, right? I look like a normal person in this!" and I remember how she smiled and nodded. She said I looked like a square. Like the rich asshole guys that came in to drink martinis when she danced. I told her how that's exactly what I want. I want them to think I'm one of them. On the way back home on the bus ride, I felt a weird mix of happiness because finally stuff is turning up and also this grim feeling that none of it will really help though. I try to keep a positive attitude. But honestly, I live a grim life. Something about seeing a shot at something better calls ny attention to the things I’m not happy about but have to put up with now. For example, it’s always been difficult for me to make friends. Now I don't even have much energy to deal with that because I'm struggling to pay my rent and stay caught up in school. There was an awkward situation during the interview when Brian said how much fun college was for him. I grinned and played along but I doubted it was believable. This isn't a fun time right now. My life is about pushing myself forward. A part of me that desperately hopes my life will change sooner or later, as long as I keep pushing. But There's another part that I try to ignore. That part says it's all pointless. Maybe I can make it up a few rungs in socioeconomic status, but I'll never feel any different. I'm stained. With ink. This voice says that my entire life can be summarized in a few images: * Me carrying oysters on silver trays to upper class dinner * Me in a classroom at school, watching other students chit chat * Me in the department of corrections waiting room, waiting my turn to pay my fees and then convince my officer that I deserve to stay out of prison for another month * Me at home at night, scribbling notes from textbooks. Like I said, I try not to listen to that part of me. I try really hard not to let it even get out a word. But that part came out of nowhere and got to me on the bus today. So, yeah, I’m a weird mix of hope and gloom. Ash just called. She wanted to know how the internship interview went. I told her about it. Then I told her how it was nice to know she cared, knowing it would provoke her. Of course she made that "ugh" sound she does when she wants to express annoyance or disgust, but I told her it was too late to back pedal. Her calling me shows she cares about somebody else's happiness. No Ash is an island. I asked her if it hurt to feel some small amount of joy and hope, even if it was for somebody else, like when you've been in the dark for a long time, and somebody shines a flashlight in your eyes. She said she didn't care that much, and I think I laughed and said she obviously did and I think it's really sweet. We talked for a few more minutes. I should add an image of me talking on the phone to Ash to that list of bullet points up above that defines my life. I'm glad we're pals.