I checked my bank account this week and found I have $32.34 to my name. I began to fantasize about ripping the facing from the ATM and dashing with as many dead presidents that would fit in my pockets. The receipt bearing the grim message has all the confidence in the world that I can get away with it. Instead I’m taking the leap and beginning to search for an on-campus job.
Will I find a decent job? Will I be smelling like tater tots for the remainder of my sophomore year? Only time will tell, readers, more after the jump.
