passing through the orient.

You know how when you play The Game of Life, the first think you do is make a choice? You can either take a left out of the gate and get right to work, or you can take a right and get your miniature car an ed-ju-ma-cay-tion. When you go straight to work, you get to choose your job immediately, bypass the first of several stops along the way, and get paid right off the bat. When you go to college, you have to travel across 8 extra spaces and interrupt your play no matter what you roll to select a job, all without a single Pay Day space. So, if you hit any of those "Something ridiculous and unrealistic happened to you. Pay this ridiculous unrealistic amount of money now," spaces, the only thing thing you have to work with is the money everyone receives at the beginning.


So, you have to wonder, why do 90% or more people who play The Game of Life choose to take the college route? Because once you do get to choose your job, all of your choices pay more money than any of the jobs available for people who just start out in the field.


Well, I have chosen the longer, poorer route of going to college in my actual life and I expect it to pay off in the long run. (You know, retire at Millionaires Estate. Or at least comfortably at Countryside Acers.) I moved in last Wednesday (oh my... I've been here almost an entire week already!) and after all that orientation I'm finally setting off with my rape whistle, ID, and room keys all attached to my handy-dandy notebook! ... I mean Sock Monkey lanyard.


So far I've had 2 days of classes and I already kind of feel like all I am is a little pink peg stuck in an open-roofed plastic van. I'm easily lost, stepped on, moved... I guess that's just part of it, huh?


Well, wish me luck!

"Why is it that any time you do anything new that involves a group of people,
the first thing that happens is 'orientation'? 
Are human beings in such constant danger of becoming disoriented

 that we have to keep stopping and orienting ourselves?"

"Why I Let My Hair Grow Out" by Maryrose Wood