I posted all that ruckus about the new computer and then promptly forgot to mention again it once it arrived. It's been a few weeks now and I'm still glad I made the purchase. I would go into more detail about my technological glee, but I'm not quite geeky enough for that. (I'm geeky enough to have named it, though: Ghost, since it's sleek and black and runs without a sound.)

It's been eight days so far and the new job is not going very well. I had the misfortune of starting on the day that several major employees walked out, and with the impending departure of my boss next week, my training's been exacerbated by the fact there are so many things up in the air. Due in part to this general chaos I haven't learned the job as well as I or my boss expected, so every day other people have to bear the added pressure of helping me get things done. Even when, or if, I do finally manage to become competent, I still can't help thinking that I would have been a lot happier just returning to the position I had before. I'm glad I went for the challenge of a new opportunity but I can already see that it didn't work in my favor this time. I'm not sure if it's determination, fear, or simple, base pride that keeps me from just quitting and going back to the job I know I'd like more.

I'm encouraged by the fact these complaints echo those I had a year ago when I first started that other position. But I'm not nearly optimistic enough to expect the same cheerful outcome this time around. Things are probably likely to get even worse before they start to improve.

I've finished my first week at the new job but I have just two other quick points right now. The results from my cancer tests at the clinic all came back fine, but in my blood work the doctors noticed what they think is some level of decreased efficiency in my liver. They said it isn't anything dire, and simply requested that the next time I'm in town (probably July) I drop by to have some more precise tests run. They also said that it isn't at all related to the cancer-- in fact, they think it's some kind of genetic, hereditary thing. It's all very mysterious. The vagueness makes it hard for me to be too concerned, though since it's hereditary I wonder who else in my family has this condition. If this even is a condition.

Also this week, my mother was diagnosed with Sjögren's Syndrome. She's had a lot of pain and stiffness in her joints recently, and after first suspecting that it was rheumatoid arthritis the doctors are now fairly sure it's this syndrome. (As always more tests are needed before they can be certain.) All I know about it is what's listed on that WebMD page and that it can be treated with daily medication, which I'm grateful for. Whenever I call her Mom seems to be handling it pretty well but I have a feeling she's simply softening the blow for my sake, a popular instinct in my family. They told her Sjögren's is hereditary, so there might be a risk it's been passed on to my siblings and me, but again the details are too vague for me to be very worried. I just want them to find a way to help my mother.

The drive back to Asheville was fine. I don't think I'm going to schedule anymore CT scans for 1:30, though, because by then I was getting weak from being barred from eating anything since midnight. As always I was by far the youngest person in the clinic and all of the old folks laced with IVs and covered with cheap white blankets shot me accusatory looks the whole time I was there, like I was invading their turf. It's not like I chose to, dudes. If you want to own cancer that badly, you can fucking have it. But as I was having my usual fidgeting fit while the nurse put the IV in my arm (I'm a big pussy about that), one other patient caught my glance and gave me a broad, warm, purposeful smile that immediately helped me to feel a little less isolated. At times like that, a smile can make a huge difference. I'm surprised by the fact those glares still sting, but not by the glares themselves. The cancer community is as selective with its support as any other group, I guess.

As I was pigging out on lunch an hour later, the administrator from Summer Job Company called and told me I was her first choice for the new gig. I'm 22 years old and now in charge of QA for the Athens branch of a major company. How cool is that shit? It's been hours and I'm still on a high from it... even though it's just a lousy hourly-rate job with a lot of responcibility and little authority. It's the principal of the thing, though.

According to online tracking the new Dell's in Doraville, Georgia and is scheduled to arrive on Monday.

I'm not any less broke than I was a few days ago but my new Dell will be here before Monday. The one I wanted was on sale for 15% off and they were offering free shipping, so the $928 tag came down to $705. It made sense to strike while the iron was hot. Even I can afford this, or at the very least pretend to. I owe a lot to Pez who went through all the features with me and helped me figure out what it was I really needed. I wrote that yesterday morning before receiving an email from Dell that my payment had been declined. Haha, ouch! A smart reaction on their part, maybe, but for a stupid reason-- the payment I made to Discover hadn't gone through and as such there were insufficient funds. But that's been cleared up as of this morning and now my new Dell will be reaching me soon, though two days later than the previous soon. Is it annoying that I keep talking about Dell? My new Dell? I just relish saying "my new Dell." New Dell new Dell my new Dell computer Dell me! Really, though, after being on this machine for this long, with a 13" monitor set to 1024x768 resolution (I don't recommend this), even a shiny new toaster would be a step up.

At 3pm yesterday I was supposed to go to Summer Job and update some paperwork in order to start back on Tuesday. At noon I received a call from the administrator of a rival branch of Summer Job Company offering me another job. She asked me to come by and talk about it and called the office of my original job to let them know I was considering it. I figured I would talk to both of them briefly and then make a decision, but it didn't work out that way. The little chat I was expecting with the mytserious administrator was actually an interview. This isn't a summer job, it's a full-blown position. (In retrospect I'm thankful I even bothered to dress nicely, considering my expectations.) The new position pays a little better, involves a lot more interaction with customers and employees, and has a lot more responsibility: instead of a nameless grunt I'd be the sole employee of this off-shoot department. During the interview we went through all of my previous job experience, and ironically the entire motley assortment qualifies me for this position in one aspect or another. I know I would be excellent at this job. She's interviewing a few people on Friday and calling me at Dad's with the verdict Friday afternoon so I have until then to decide whether to take this job, assuming it's offered to me. Even if I don't take it, or aren't offered it, I'm honored that I was plucked out of many, many people for my qualifications.

Today will be the fourth day of the post-semester clean-up. The fourth day of clean-up as in the fourth day of clean-up. You know how cleaning is usually done out of boredom, duty or pleasure (I've only heard rumors of the latter)? Well, this is cleaning done out of anger. I have had it with living in dusty squallor surrounded by old and useless shit. In the last three days I've gone through my entire room and closet and made three huge, heaping piles of things I can throw away, things I can donate and paper to recycle. If I didn't need it, if I didn't like it, if I wasn't using it, or if I didn't know I had it, it's gone. Gone, bitch. My previously overflowing closet now holds two boxes' worth. The anger that is fueling all this stems from the fact that I could've done this months or years ago and enjoyed a new, clean, unjunkified room for that much longer. It seems silly to be doing this a few months before I move out, but really I'm just happy it's getting done.

Speaking of moving out, Dad is saying that would be cheapest and easiest to sell my place instead of rent it out. We have about a month now to fix everything that's falling apart and find a buyer. My once-simple plan is now much more complicated.

"Subject: Dell Order Confirmation

"Dear Aaron,
"Your order with Dell has been processed and will go into production upon authorization of your method of payment. Please review your order detail below and save this e-mail. It contains your Customer Number and your Order Number(s), which allow you to track your order's status."

Okay, so maybe I jumped the gun by a month or two.

Grades were posted yesterday. I managed a B in Comparative Political Analysis, and I'm more proud of that B than I am the A's I got in everything else. GPA's up to 3.71.

The traditional post-semester clean-up is now underway. Phase one involves putting everything back where it belongs and taking out all the accumulated dirty dishes, trash and recyclables; phase two involves cleaning the whole bedroom and bathroom; and phase three, a new addition this time around, will involve attempts to sort through all of my things and figure out what's worth taking on the move to Matt's, what's worth donating and what's worth tossing. It bothers me how much useless junk I've picked up in my three years in this house or kept over from high school and earlier. It'd be great if I could get rid of a sizeable chunk of everything I own in the next month or two. Things are only worth the value you give them and I'm going to strip everything of that worth.

I'm heading to Asheville this weekend for my blood work and CT scan check-up at the clinic, then I start back at Summer Job on Tuesday. My first purchase is going to be a new computer because despite my vigilant maintenance, this six-year-old machine is stumbling toward its grave like a zombie in stilettos. It amazes me how cheap they are these days: I could trick out a Dell with everything I want and it'd be only $806. I would get one custom-built independently but my sphere of geeky knowledge does not extended into that intimidating realm. Oh, to soon have a decent computer and be out of debt!

Well, that was fun.

That big paper crunch was even worse than I prepared for. All the papers ran longer and took longer to write than I expected and, as a grand finale, the Political Analysis one happened in a single 25-hour stint of preparation and execution that ended with me flailing across campus unwashed and unslept in order to put it in the professor's box on time. That night I had to cover a shift at work, too, so in the end I was up for a good 36+ hours before the fun was over. I put so much effort into these papers that when final exams rolled around I couldn't get myself to focus on them despite the fact they actually had more weight. It's all over now, though, and retrospective grief ain't my bag. The lesson has been learned.

The semester has officially ended and in its place have come 90-degree days and parking lots empty enough to allow for good parking wherever one goes. I always feel torn between two sentiments over the summer. On one hand I wouldn't be here and Athens would be dirt poor if it wasn't for the University, but on the other, as a full-time Athens resident, I really love it when those pesky kids get lost for the summer and "give us back our town." Summer is definitely my favorite time of year here. (Autumn in Asheville is my favorite time of anything anywhere.)

By far the biggest downside of summer is graduation, because I have a knack for becoming great friends with people who are on the verge of leaving forever. This time last year I was saying goodbye to Lisa and Luna; this year it's Jen, Rachel and Brooke. At the exit show on the 15th I ran into two people I started with as a freshman in the art school who are both graduating now too. But rather than add to the lovely experience of losing friends, this last thing played more to my fear of watching everyone I know go off and become successful while I remain a broke and useless student. That thought strikes me pretty often these days.

I'll post more later-- it's time to call my moms.