I Worked for 10 Years. Here's Why I'd Never Go Back to Being a Full-Time Student.

The Flyer Under the Table Leg

At ten p.m., I came out of the office. The wind at the subway entrance rattled the billboards. A guy in a gray hoodie handed me a flyer. Grad school sprint, star teachers predict questions, refund if you fail. I took it, folded it twice, stuffed it into my coat pocket. He said, Miss, take a look. I nodded, didn't stop. I used to hand out flyers like that, outside Normal University, eighty a day, one boxed meal included. The boxed meal was shredded potato and a chicken leg. The chicken leg was frozen, ice still on the skin. I did it for three days. It didn't change anyone's fate. It changed my phone bill that month. Later I sold the rest of the flyers as scrap paper. Got four yuan fifty. Bought a milk tea, medium, pearls swapped for coconut jelly. The clerk asked, Less sugar? I said, Normal. Normal meant full sugar. By the end, the pearls stuck to the bottom. I couldn't suck them up.

In school I always wanted to grow up fast. The back wall of my high school classroom had a countdown. One hundred days. I tore one off every day. When I got to the last one, I thought I'd cry. I didn't. I threw my books down from the third floor. They hit the flowerbed. The homeroom teacher stood downstairs and looked up at me. I ran back to my seat and pretended to do problems. My deskmate said, Are you crazy? I said, I'm free. She said, There's still the college entrance exam. I said, I know. She said, Then why throw them? I said, I threw history. The history book, cover with Qin Shi Huang. It landed in the flowerbed and a rose thorn stabbed through it. In college, during finals week, the library opened at six. I lined up at five fifty. I brought bread and coffee, saved a seat, memorized Marxist philosophy. By the third pass, it was light. I told myself, No more exams after this. On graduation day, I sold my textbooks to the recycling man. Eight mao a jin. Got thirty-seven yuan. I treated my roommate to malatang. She said, You'll miss this. I said, Like hell I will. She said, You will. I said, I won't. She said, Bet. I said, Bet what. She said, A milk tea. I said, Fine. Now she's won. I miss it. But I don't say it.

My first year working, salary four thousand five. Rent one thousand eight. Payday on the fifteenth. When the text came, my shoulders dropped. That drop was better than a sixty. I started paying social insurance. HR said, A gap affects buying a house. I did the math. Buying a house was far away, but social insurance couldn't have a gap. I got a credit card, limit ten thousand. First purchase, a phone for my mom. She called and said it was too expensive. I said, Not expensive, installments. She said, Keep it for yourself. I said, I have money. I didn't. That month I ate noodles for twenty days. The noodles were the cheapest in the supermarket, four yuan fifty a pack. I bought six. With Lao Gan Ma. The Lao Gan Ma was left by my roommate, half a bottle. When I finished, there was a layer of red oil at the bottom. I fried rice with it. The rice was leftover, hard. After frying, the oil was red. I took one bite. Salty. I drank a lot of water.

Later I changed jobs. Eight thousand, twelve thousand, fifteen thousand. I moved from a shared apartment to a one-bedroom. Bought a pothos, put it on the windowsill. Bought a keyboard cover because I typed a lot. Bought stomach medicine because I worked overtime. Payday came. I paid the card, then rent, then moved fifteen hundred to a card I didn't touch. That card was for emergencies. Three emergencies: teeth, cat, phone. The cat was a stray, orange and white, named Fifteen, because payday was the fifteenth. When Fifteen first came, it hid under the bed and cried all night. The next day I bought a litter box, cat food, a teaser wand. Now it sleeps by my pillow. It snores.

Last year the company laid people off. Old Zhou at the next desk was cut. He was thirty-five, two kids. The day he left, he wiped down his desk. Keyboard with alcohol wipes, monitor with glasses cloth. He left me the pothos and said, You keep it. He carried a cardboard box with a thermos, a box of goji berries, a family photo. In the photo, his wife smiled, his kids smiled, he smiled. When he smiled, there were lines at the corners of his eyes. Before the elevator door closed, he said, Help me send out some resumes. I said, Okay. Later he looked for three months and went to Tianjin. Salary dropped three thousand. He used to say he wanted to do an MBA, after the kids got older. The kids got older, and he left. Before he left, he gave me the goji berries. Said, Don't stay up late. I said, You too. He said, I can't stay up anymore.

At the start of the year I looked for a job. At an interview I met a woman, twenty-eight, just graduated with a master's. She was applying for an internship. I looked at her resume. Undergraduate in education, three years working, grad school, career change. She wore a white shirt, black pants, hair pulled tight. After the interview, we ran into each other at the convenience store downstairs. She bought a rice ball and a bottle of water. She said, You waiting for results too? I said, No, I'm interviewing. She said, Oh. What for? I said, Operations. She said, I used to be a teacher. I said, Why change? She said, Too much pressure. She opened her phone and showed me her interview schedule. Three a day, two online. Sticky notes covered the screen, different colors. She said, Renting in Beijing is too expensive. I said, How much. She said, Two thousand five. She said, Oh, and lowered her head to eat the rice ball. Tuna rice ball. She took a bite, rice fell on the table. She picked it up with her finger and ate it. I didn't ask her why. After she finished, she threw the trash in the bin, sorted it, plastic with plastic, paper with paper. She said, I'm off, one more. She ran. Her heels went tap-tap on the tiles. I watched her and thought of the year I graduated. I ran too. Not as fast as her. She got to the intersection. Red light. She stopped and looked at her phone. Green light. She ran across. Her bag bounced on her back.

The company sent an email saying it encouraged degree upgrades. Half reimbursed for part-time programs. I opened it. The list of majors was long. Educational technology, psychology, business administration. Tuition sixty thousand, reimbursement thirty thousand. Weekend classes, three years. I was thirty-two. Out at thirty-five. Thirty-five, the age Old Zhou was cut. I closed the email. That night I opened it again. I filled in the interest form. Didn't submit. I thought, What would I study. Education, I'm not a teacher. Psychology, I'm not a counselor. Business administration, who would I manage. I closed the laptop and went to the kitchen to cook noodles. Gas was overdue. The stove wouldn't light. I paid with my phone. Balance three hundred twenty-four yuan sixty. The noodles cooked. I took a bite. No taste. Added a spoon of Lao Gan Ma. The Lao Gan Ma was new. The lid was tight. I twisted three times. It opened. Red oil splashed on my hand. I licked it. Spicy.

The next day at work, my boss yelled at me. Because a number was wrong. He cc'd the whole group. I stood by his desk and watched him turn the screen. He said, Look, this number, you wrote it wrong. I said, I'll fix it. He said, What's the use of fixing it? The client already saw it. I said, Sorry. He said, Does sorry help? I didn't speak. I went back to my desk and opened the grad school registration site. Filled in name, ID, diploma number. At the payment page, I stopped. My phone popped up with a credit card bill. Four thousand eight hundred twenty. I closed the page. Went to the stairwell and took a stomach pill. The pill was hydrotalcite. I chewed it. It was like chalk. I swallowed. Drank water. The stairwell smelled of smoke. The cleaning lady was downstairs on the phone, saying, This month's wages are sent back home. I stood a while, went back to my desk, fixed the number. Resent the email. Cc'd the whole group. The boss didn't reply. When I left, he passed my desk and put down a candy. Mint. I didn't eat it. Left it in the drawer. Later it melted and stuck to a document.

On the weekend I slept until ten. Opened an online class, listened for ten minutes, paused. Scrolled my phone. A classmate was doing a PhD. Posted a photo of the library window, trees outside. I liked it. In the afternoon I went to the supermarket. Bought eggs, noodles, shampoo. Passed the university town. Students lined up for milk tea. I walked around. Went home, watered the pothos. Fifteen jumped on the windowsill and watched birds. I opened my laptop and watched a movie. Halfway through, fell asleep. Woke up and it was dark. Takeout arrived. Ate. Washed the dishes. A day passed. At night I opened a job site, looked around. Didn't apply. Closed it. Opened my shopping cart, deleted the textbooks. Added them back. Deleted them again. In the end didn't buy them.

A new intern joined the company, born in 2001. She sat next to me. On her desk was a grad school English book. I asked, You taking the exam? She said, Yes. I said, What for. She said, Journalism. I said, Journalism isn't easy to get a job in. She said, I know. I said, Then why. She said, I want to study. I said, What will it get you. She said, I don't know. She opened the book, vocabulary list, first word, abandon. She said, Sister, why don't you study. I said, What would it get me. She said, I don't know, but I want to. She smiled. I smiled too. That night I ordered a textbook. Project management. Because the company reimbursed it, and if I passed, five hundred raise. Five hundred wasn't much, but enough for cat food. The cat food was imported. Fifteen ate it. I ate noodles.

The book arrived. Every night I left work at ten and read for an hour. On weekends I went to the library. College students saved seats with books, water bottles, sticky notes. I found a corner and sat. They memorized politics. I did practice questions. At noon I ate a sandwich and slept on the table for twenty minutes. Woke up and continued. On exam day, it rained. I brought an umbrella, not water. The exam room was on the fifth floor. No elevator. I climbed up and sat down. The test paper came. I took a deep breath. Passed. Salary went up five hundred. I sold the textbook on Duozhuayu. Got twelve yuan. Twelve yuan, bought a milk tea, medium, pearls swapped for coconut jelly. The clerk asked, Less sugar? I said, Normal. Normal meant full sugar.

At the subway entrance someone was handing out flyers again. I took one. Grad school. I walked home and put the flyer under the table leg. The table leg was unsteady, always wobbling. Now it doesn't. Tomorrow I still have work. I opened my laptop and replied to emails. The pothos needed water. Fifteen was at my feet, belly up. I touched it. It bit me. No blood. I turned off the light. Slept.