I'm going to talk about three things today. (Just so you're prepared.)

#1 -- So I spent half the day in the Cook County Clerk's Office, sorting through reports and talking with three Medill Grads.

Scary. Very scary.

To know that my high aspirations to become a journalist at the highest level might some day be met by working at for a county clerk's office as a spokesperson scares the shit out of me.

Please don't let me sell out too. Please, God, please.

Just how in the hell does this happen? There are three distinctly different stories, but all come back to cash and the working environment. You see, these people have sold their souls to the government to make an extra buck, and they don't even like what they're now doing. I have no respect. None. They completely sold out. For $10 K a year. Puh-leaze.

#2 --- I got my oil changed. Found out the assholes who put on my serpentine belt in September did a shitty job. I must get a new one... TOMORROW. Dammit! This means I have to write two stories, call at least 6 people, get my f-ing belt replaced, pay for it, and drive 7 hours to Minneapolis. Note to self: Always check to see if a new serpentine belt is correctly installed before flying the coup. (Apparently there are several grooves on the belt which match up with grooves on the track.) Check this next time. You hear me? Check it.

At least I'll have my favorite thing in the world waiting for me: the Soon-to-be Mrs. Frosty. Nice. Finally a ray of sunshine in my life. (I also found out my parents sent the Beloved One flowers today... oh.... how sweet).

#3 --- I celebrated my Double-Bogey Day with Buffalo Wild Wings, the restaurant with my favorite food in the world less than $15. I got 6 Chicken Legs (the big ones, like KFC) with Jamaican Jerk sauce and a side of ranch dressing for $3.10. That's right. Enough food for two of us -- good food, damn good at that --- for $3! Three F-ing $$$! You can't beat that, especially on a grad-school budget.

However, upon waiting for my chicken to be "fried and tossed in my favorite sauce" as the brochure reads, I noticed a 38-somehting bartender wasting away at the bar. He was by himself. No customers. Long hair, multiple earrings, tattoos and worn-through jeans and shoes. Poor guy. He forgot to pack his bags after the 80's ended and get on with his life. That's why I was always afraid of the service industry. It's like a cult -- it just sucks people in and they always come out a little bit different (bitter, mostly. sometimes a bit crazy) if they come out at all.

If today did anything for me, it re-introduced me to several things I never, ever, under any circumstances, I repeat NEVER want to do.

1) Sell out to work for a measly county clerk's office (I mean, the state department would be different, but I regress)

2) Fix cars.

3) Sling sauce at a tavern.

I'd be surprised if that bartender took home $40 total today - including tips. I almost wanted to buy a beer and give him a buck. Then I remembered I'm a grad student with no money.

Something that today I realized, again for the 19th time, isn't too bad.