--from Life's Little Instruction Book, Volume III, by H. Jackson Brown, Jr.

I spent most of Friday checking in on the college's Office of Information Technology, in hopes of getting a job.

See, on Thursday, I was talking to a friend of mine about my current lack of employment, and the fact that I was turning down this other job largely because of the commute. And she said that the OIT had been looking for an Assistant Web Page Designer, and that she'd been considering that job herself, but had ended up turning it down. But that it was very likely still open.

This was just before my art class, so I couldn't run down there immediately, but I did stop by afterwards, only to find out that they were closed for the day. I resolved to stop by as soon as possible the next day.

I got there around 11:15 AM, if I recall correctly. I was told that the person whose name my friend had given me had called in sick, and wouldn't be in for a week. But I could see this other person, who'd be in at 12:30.

Okay, fine. I went to the computer lab, checked my mail, wandered over to the college paper, picked up some stuff I'd accidentally left there the night before, fidgeted a bit, and then went back to the office.

Seems the person I wanted to see was in a meeting. Could I come back at 2:00?

So... I walked a few blocks to Main Street, got myself lunch (a couple slices of pizza), stopped by a discount store, and picked up some paper clips (29 cents), some chocolate caramels (89 cents), and a CD-ROM French tutor software package ($1.99), and walked back to college, getting there at about ten minutes to two.

Seems the person I wanted to see had already been there and left. But was I there about a part-time job? In that case, I was told, there was this other person I could call. She wasn't in right now, but she'd be checking her voice mail pretty often...

I took the number, and left a message when I got home. I figure that if I don't hear anything by Monday, I'll be camping out at the office until I find somebody I can speak to about this.

On the way back, I stopped by another discount store, this one being the one with the great selection of teas. I picked up one box of Ahmad Mango Tea (not bad), and one box of Stash Lemon Spice (which I haven't had a proper cup of yet). And a deeply discounted jar of Folger's coffee. I don't drink coffee, myself, and have no intention of starting anytime soon, but I've wanted to have some around, for social reasons.

The problem with the discount store with the great selection of teas is that it's a few doors down from its subsidiary store, the remaindered book outlet. This store is dangerous, evil, vile, a trap for the unwary.

I get caught every time.

Every time, I wander in there just to look around. Every time, I end up spending a lot more than I can afford, and I still leave with my heart in tatters over how much I've had to leave behind.

This time around, I got suckered by the low end of the price scale. Sure, I knew I couldn't afford anything in, say, the five-dollar range, but this book over here was just $1.99. And so was this one. And this one...

It's only two bucks, right?

Which explains how I ended up with How to Be an Extremely Reform Jew, Life's Little Instruction Book, Volume III, She Said, She Said: Strong Words from Strong-Minded Women, Comic Relief, and the almost-but-not-quite current issues of Esquire and the Utne Reader.

Frankly, I could have done without most of those.

My last visit, two weeks ago, was a bit more productive; that time, I ended up with The New York Public Library Book of Popular Americana, which made a nice addition to my reference shelf, and Erica Jong's Fear of Fifty, which, rather to my surprise, charmed my socks off when I flipped through it in the store. I still haven't gotten the chance to actually read the latter, though.

Either I'm going to have to find someplace else to buy my tea, or I'm going to have to find an alternate route home.