Damn my parents’ responsible decisions.

This morning, I’m sitting in Cuba waiting for class to start and trying to figure out exactly how long I can hold my breath or something, you know, very important things, when this adorable guy walks in to talk about some program or something. Ooh. A good day.

Even better- it’s not one of those bleeding heart societies where if you pick up garbage alongside prison inmates we’ll give you a letter of recommendation. It’s a scholar program where you can spend the summer working daily with a faculty member on research and you get a $2800 stipend.

So I would get paid almost three thousand dollars to NOT MAKE COFFEE ALL SUMMER.

(Ignore the fact that there is pretty much nothing I would not do for $2800.)

And he even was talking about how this is such a good program for those who are thinking about going to graduate school because it breaks down the daunting Ph.D. program into doable portions and I really felt like raising my hand and asking, “So you start to dry-heave when thinking about your preliminary exams too!?!?! Can I have your neurotic, over-achieving babies???”

Of course, all cannot be well in paradise. He finally gets to the qualifications, and apparently this program is only available if you are a first-generation student (parents don’t have a bachelor’s degree), a minority, or have received a Pell Grant.

Huh. I’m paler than the moon, the state of Wisconsin seems to think I can pay for my education (although that is far from the case), both my parents graduated from college, and my mom has a law degree.

You were so close I could taste you, $2800.

Excuse me, I need to go craft a carefully-worded e-mail to convince this guy that little white Catholic girls from the North Shore need money too and damn it, IT IS NOT MY FAULT THAT MY MOTHER HAS A DOCTORATE.

*sigh* She’s so selfish.

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