Harvard Was My Back Up, Bitches

I applied to the Harvard Extension School today for grad school. Sure. That sounds impressive, but really, I barely did the application correctly and there was a glitch with my timed essay submission. So, before I even got accepted into the program, I emailed and called to tell the registrar’s office that I messed something up. Great. I’m sure this is going to be a win for me.

I could blame the shoddy internet service we have out here in the sticks of southeast Germany, but I’d be using that intermittent coverage as a crutch. You see, my first plan was to work, not attend grad school, again. The truth is, today I missed out on what could have been my dream job. I have been looking for a decent job that plays to my experience, education and natural gifts since we found out we were coming to Germany two months ago. That short time frame may not sound like a hardship, but it has felt like a lifetime. Enter stage left: my dream job. The Hohenfels Bowling Center is in dire need of a … what do you call a bowling alley attendant? Anyway, I tried to apply for the job and I was told that I wasn’t qualified. The job was given to a kid who has “more experience.” I’m curious as to what that experience is. What? Can he count to 300? Does he know something about disinfectant spray I didn’t learn in nursing school? Are they afraid I can’t take the stress of the league bowlers? I worked with 7^th and 8^th graders for two years. There is nothing more stressful, except for that massive paper I had to write on Henry James’ unspoken narrative style before I graduated from … COLLEGE.  

So, Harvard was my back up plan if I couldn’t get hired as the bowling alley bitch. I didn’t want that job anyway.

Harvard here I come, maybe. I sure hope they got that essay.