I went to get measured for my cap and gown today. When I bent forward so that the woman could wrap a tape measure around my head, I couldn't help thinking it felt sort of ominous: like they were checking what size to make the noose.

There are 74 days left in my undergraduate career. Despite having lived through several hundred already, this comes as sort of a shock. What, be done with this? So soon?

In a way, it's good that it's going to be over so quickly. Being a student is fun and I have a lot of free time to do very important things like nap and take classes on how to write a screenplay. And I generally like it here; like my friends, like my classes, like the campus. I'd be very good to stick on a brochure for the admissions department. Except for one little thing.

I'm broke. And I don't have a job yet. And I don't know that I'll have one in 74 days or in 100 days or even, to be honest, 365 days. I may just end up leading a sad life of unemployment before I break down and decide it's time to throw myself deeper into debt with another degree that with any luck, might make me employable.

Faced with an overdue notice from my telephone company and a credit card dangerously close to its limit, I spent the morning trying to get my finances (and future) in order. With only $52 in my checking account, you might ask how one does this. Simple: one calls to get ones credit limit extended (I was approved -- those bastards, they just keep throwing me more line to hang myself with), pays off one's phone bill on said credit card and eats some ramen for breakfast. (Maybe it was lunch time by then.)

Then, I spent several hours scouring the web for possible job openings. I mean hours. If you're a publishing company in the Northeast, chances are, I went to your website today. Not that I'm even sure that's what I wanna do, but it's what I've decided I will try doing for a year or two. Assuming I get hired.

After all that, I spent a couple hours tinkering with the fonts and wording of my resume, making sure it was just right. (Surely the lovely "Century Gothic" font I put various headings in will give my resume the pizzaz that was ever-so-slightly lacking before, and surely, this will convince people anyone so damn creative yet classy must certainly deserve an interview.)

I don't like this uncertainty; nothing quite throws me off so much as not having a sure-fire plan for the future. But before I let another day slip away into the depths of fruitless job searching, I'm packing up my bags, grabbing my passport and heading for familiar foreign territory. I may not be able to afford it, but I'm calling it a necessary expense all the same.