So it has been a busy busy day, as I have been back and forth from home to Manhattan twice already, all in search of registration at the Graduate Center, where I discovered there is no such thing as a free multidisciplinary seminar in urban mathematics education. Lunch, however, is discounted. So I had to run back to get my info for using part of my AmeriCorps money, and then back, and I would have made it before the Bursar (what an archaic word, though not as bad as "Ombudsman," which I once misspelled on a spelling bee) closed even in that rush had I not stopped off to drop off Joephet's laundry to Joephet. So I'm sitting around now, marvelling that I've gotten a 3.73% return on my investments since 6 August 2004. Now that is rather nice, and a beginning, as I must admit that I stayed up all night last night reading Rich Dad, Poor Dad. I would have done Alric proud, and was briefly inspired to take a Real Estate Saleperson Licensing Course, which would be a tax-credit of 20% up to $2000, which is a rather nice way of getting out of taxes, though only with post-tax income. In any case, I'm $950 poorer but soon will be able to not-mooch off the Graduate Center, and it's just a long march from here.

I have been looking into sabbaticals too. If that works out well, I might be able to take one in five years to finish off the third year (and last!) year of my PhD.

And in the best news all summer, I'm told that with at least six teachers in my current region in excess in mathematics and an uncounted number of mendicant teaching fellows "trained" at Pace "University," my transfer is unofficially likely to be granted. Not out of any real favor to me, of course, but rather just because it's easier to be rid of me than to try and place me. It goes to show that with a little patience and without any bitch-slapping whatever, you can still get what you want. It's all what a bushi would do. Well, maybe a wajo.