…And I’m too late.
I’m so not ready for this that I’m actually crying. Like, I’m going to wake up tomorrow with a red face, puffy eyes, and a headache like a hangover. [Oh, hello eligible men who read my blog. Don’t you want to wake up to that some day?]
It started with frustration, turned to bewilderment, then sadness and now anger and despair: DMACC did not send my transcripts.
I don’t get it. December 15th I received my personal copy of the transcript. The transcript I requested in the exact same packet where I requested every graduate school transcript. But after checking a few application/admission statuses, the required DMACC transcript is the only thing missing. Applications to graduate school must meet all requirements.
Brown, Texas Tech, Emerson and Florida State deadlines have passed. Syracuse and Washington State are due by the end of the week. Logic tells us that’s six (out of ten) incomplete submissions.
Incomplete submissions >> Ineligible for admission.
Ineligible for admission >> Waste of money ($936 so far).
Ineligible for admission >> Waste of time (half of 2009).
Ineligible for admission >> No future.
No future >> Mall employee for life.
Mall employee for life >> SWF. Likes cats.
Joking aside, I’m very distraught at the thought of my top schools being knocked off my list because I am an overachiever and started French early.
Please, please let this just be an annoying ‘Monday’ thing.
A ‘Not Exactly Ready’ list for the week of December 14th.
1. Waking up sick. Again.
2. Not having an appetite.
3. 40-hour work week at my supposedly seasonal job.
4. Holiday hours, meaning I get home after 11 pm every night.
5. The French chapter 12 test.
6. The French final.
7. Three past-due freelance deadlines.
8. More snow.
9. Getting hounded by the ‘rents about Christmas presents and new cell phones.
10. Bruises and body aches that seem to never cease.
I am having another bad Monday. (I even sort of feel like a fat, orange cat. Eew.) Actually, the last few days have been Mondays. Being sick the beginning of last week through me off. Coming back and working Friday felt like Monday, and then Saturday and Sunday felt like Monday, too. But today is definitely Monday because it’s a bad day. I spent my morning on hold waiting to find out why my stupid GRE account won’t work. I need to order my official score reports to all the colleges I would like to attend, but apparently the confirmation and registration numbers, my undergraduate institution code, and my email address are not valid. I find that interesting. The easy-to-do-stuff is never actually easy, is it? After battling the phone system and getting nowhere, I realized that I accidently made plans during work on Saturday. Damnit. Which then highlighted the fact that I work Tuesday-Saturday. Not an attractive schedule. Then I went to French class and failed a test. C’est lundi. ::le sigh::
But the tense frustration from today couldn’t hold its own against speeding all over town while blasting Evolver. Thanks, John, for appeasing yet another day.
There is a girl in my classe française, well actually in the ICN building at Urban, who looks, and more importantly sounds, like Ugly Betty. Now, she doesn’t wear the strange clothes, and she’s not so much ugly as a bit blurry on the big screen– but she’s definitely not America Ferrera, either.
She has issues with using the ICN mic, and hell, I just might, too, so I’ll overlook her tendency to sound like an American speaking to someone who doesn’t know English. But I wasn’t ready for her burst of attitude yesterday. She hops on the mic just after our professor had a stern word about failing quizzes (in the easiest language -related class I have ever taken). With the most decibel power we’ve yet to experience, she announces that she has yelled at the book store because she ordered her book for June 1, but they wrote June 11. She tells us she is very upset. I’m already thinking, “Wouldn’t this be better over email?” But no, clearly not. The French Prof says it’s a problem between the bookstore and the student, and there is nothing that she can do. So U.B. rapid-fires her words, still loud and clear, “Butyoudon’tcare?Imeanthat’salittleinsensitivedon’tyouthink?I’mjusttryingtotellyouIdon’thavemybookandIneedtoremakemyhomework.
That’snotverynice. But fine, I see how it is. You are right. It’s between me and the bookstore.”
She wasn’t in class today. Let’s see if she sticks around.