Apologies to my parents for this one.

It was my freshman year in college, and I had to get a job in order to contribute to my tuition. I had chosen an out-of-state school —the University of Wisconsin Madison —which was a relatively mean thing to do, because I could have gone to the University of Illinois and saved everyone a whole lot of money. But I don’t regret the decision at all and I was happy to work in order to attend the school of my choice. Except, that last part is a lie. I didn’t want to work! I wanted to make friends, meet boys, and go to parties.

I got a job in one of the school’s cafeterias. It was horrible. Everything smelled like wet mushrooms covered in dog hair. I had to wear a red jacket and possibly a hat (I have blocked this part out.) Two of my bosses kept hitting on me, and washing the dishes was very much like what I imagine falling into a dumpster would entail.

It’s not that I was lazy. I worked throughout high school: at an ice cream shop, a clothing store, a bakery. I babysat, and fed my neighbors’ cats. But the cafeteria just wasn’t working for me. I hated seeing my classmates and feeling like I was somehow different from them because of the red hat I may or may not have been wearing. I quit after one semester, but I still needed to make money.

No, I did not become a drug dealer. Read More>