10 hour night
Here I go. A bag of clothes, a box of books and a sleeping bag are stashed in my ’87 Chevy, my St. Christopher metal and a rosary hanging from the rearview mirror. The atlas is open to Pennsylvania, showing 80 in blue curves across the middle of the state.
I won’t need it though. I’ve driven this road before.
I’m going back to school. My parents are cosigners now, so I crossed that hurdle. My bishop loaned me the $6,000 I owed the school. I cut a deal with the loan office to bring the $1,500 I didn’t know about down to $500 and a few payments. So my transcripts are out of pawn and my accounts with Hillsdale are at zero again.
Still, I have no financial aid package and, it looks like, circumstances have forced me a mile wide of the deadline for that paperwork, so I don’t know. I’m showing up, in limbo, flying by the seat of my pants, to talk to the business office and the loan office and the financial aid office to see what happens. So I’ll see what happens, and what doesn’t happen, and go from there.
I’ve got cockroach scittering jitters in my stomach, a ten hour drive tonight and a leap, another leap, into limbo.
Wish me luck.