Once upon a time, I had a job I loved... a nice apartment...furniture...I took regular scuba diving vacations...my bank account had money in it...I went to nightclubs, took Ecstasy and danced on tables til dawn with glamorous people...and I gave it up to live with 5 roommates, take out $25,000 in loans, and slave for egocentric asshole professors.
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nice apartment..check
furniture..check
regular vacations...check
money in the bank...check
nightclubs, drugs and dancing...check
no student loans...check
seems to me you might be in the wrong program. :) Or maybe after 6 years I finally got this grad school thing down...
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