Social? Work.

Yesterday my dear friend John came with me to buy my books for classes. I started to get nervous when I looked at the nearly triple digit price tags for several books.  Unfortunately I can't wait to order books because I need to start reading (for quizzes and papers. Believe me, I am a grad student and therefore a strict believer in the idea that reading for class is only a necessity when it's... necessary.)

So, as we got up to the register I was unable to look at the screen as the kindly older woman scanned my books. John could sense my anxiety, and little nugget that he is, held my hand as the woman announced my total, "$408.16".  Oof.  The following is an accurate portrayal of an actual conversation (that sounds much harsher in print form than it did in real life):

Cashier: Ok. $408.16
Me: uuuugh. I'm going to be a SOCIAL WORKER for crying out loud.
Cahsier: OH! good for you!
Me: No! No it's not good at all! I'll never be able to pay these books off!
John: gigglegigglegiggle
Cashier: Well maybe you'll get an inheritance...
Me: Oh. GREAT! Now one of my relatives has to die to pay for these books!
Cashier: No, I meant a stranger...
Me: Well, that's even WORSE! I'd never get over the guilt.
John: gigglegiggle
Cashier: Ok... well... would you like a bag?
Me: No... no... no....
John: What she means is, I am very strong. scoops up the stack and moves us out of the store as quickly as possible


Ladies and gentleman, heed my warning. Even though our purpose is to help others and we are generally like to spread love and light in the world, social workers can get grumpy...mainly because we can't afford to eat all that often. Well, ok. That's not entirely true. But the idea that I will never be able to afford a good many things is kind of starting to freak me out.

Ah, well. At least I have my books, right?

Perhaps I can burn them to keep warm this winter.