Raise Your Hand If You're Surprised

Yesterday was a very special day. Not only was it Groundhog's Day, and apparently "Nicemas" (refer to Nitty.Gritty. for details), but it was my first official payday. I've been working at HeathSouth for the last three weeks, and those hours finally fell into a pay period that I could reap the monetary fruits of my labour from! And man, was I excited! We have a payday social in the hospital cafeteria, and those were the best chocolate cookies I've ever tasted!

Brett and I have a wish list of sorts that we were going to get with this new found fortune. Oh, you know, things like finally buy a new pair of running shoes since my current ones are three years old, get the brakes fixed on the car, get a haircut, buy a couple more pairs of scrubs, etc.

For the past three years all of my time, money, blood, sweat, and tears (oh, the enormous puddle of tears) have been directly invested into Belmont University, specifically their Physical Therapy program. I "retired" from being the Dorm Director of the infamous Johnson Hall at Lipscomb to go back to school full time, and became an academic slave in August 2003. Exit income.

And then to make things more interesting Brett moved to Montgomery, AL to start the new soccer programs at Faulkner University. Exit husband.

And for the remaining four semesters of grad school we drove back and forth between Nashville and Monty as well as straight into debt. Enter school loans at a ridiculously high interest rate.

Then the long awaited day of graduation arrived! Along with it job interviews, the board exam, and upteen-million hurdles to obtain my work permit and SSN to work legally in the States.

And so, this Friday marked the day that I would receive my very first paycheque for being a PT. The monetary reward after all those tests, lab practicals, presentations, research projects and all the other yuck you have to endure to make it through grad school. We would officially become a two-income family after this 41-month hiatus! (Not that I'm anti one-income families, I'm just anti not-having-enough-money-to-eat-something-other-than-hotdogs-and-macaroni-and-cheese-three-times-a-week).

So why the sarcastic tone to this entry you ask? Well, after celebrating my first paycheque with friends and family {thanks so much for arranging last night's get-together just for me Ashley! :)}, I checked my account balance on the internet. And do you know what it said?

Are you ready for this, because even though I know better, I was not....

My balance reads $2.99. Yes, the decimal is in the correct place. Enter jaw on the floor of Brett's office.

I'm stuck somewhere in the middle of "Are you stinkin' kidding me?" and "Well, of course that would happen to me!"

So apparently my hard earned moolah is floating around somewhere in cyperspace, and I am left sitting here with my wish list remaining simply that.

And I say, for what seems the millionth and eighty-fourth time:

"Raise your hand if you're surprised by this happening to me!!"