Sigh. Be Mine?
As the (apparently) hot AAMC lady spent way too much time telling us today, we med students are going to owe a shit ton of money when we get out of school. I’ve always found it grimly ironic that we pay 6 figures to be incredibly stressed out. But that’s life, and I’ve (almost) learned to accept it.
The main gist of our terrifying financial aid talk was that tuition is up, salaries are down, and we, Future Doctors of America, are going to be paying off our loans for freaking forever. Which means that I’m going to have to resort to one of the following options:
1. Robbing banks. It worked for Bonnie and Clyde (well…mostly) and for Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid (y’know, kinda); it can work for me.
2. Pool hustling. Fast Eddie Felson is my soul mate. Or at least, Paul Newman is
3. Make like Marion Cotillard and hook up with John Dillinger. Alternately, make like Susan Alexander and hook up with Charles Foster Kane.
4. Plastics.
Jess Spiegelman