1:07 p.m. x 2007-10-31
i have been running around all day nonstop. last night i was feeling like utter complete total NOTHING BUT SHIT and then i could not sleep because a special on nostradamus was on the history channel and my roommate fell asleep with it on. so i drooled through my first two classes (more than literally) and then RAN to find a) psych department head, b) new advisor, c) language department head, d) registrar.
a) was not in his room, so i proceeded to b), who i did not initially seek out as my new advisor. since i'm finally getting declared here (all professors i told this story to laughed: i've been a psych major for two years and this school and my old stump of an advisor were like "R U SURE PSYCH IS RIGHT 4 U CHILD") i need an advisor who knows what the hell they're doing with a psych major, hence i need a psych professor. i popped into b)'s room and asked him if i qualified to take sensation & perception and he was like "no way in hell!" but we talked for a while. he's a wiley old man and he likes me, so he was all "i'll be your advisor, child".
so then he disappeared in a cloud of time-for-class, and a) magically poofed up and he was like "you actually have to get b)'s signature on this too" all by 4, or you're doomed forfuckingever." so b) wasn't going to be back for a little while, so i proceeded to c), who told me to fuck off for a half an hour so i went and checked my mailbox. i had a package from my parents. they sent me $20 and a load of easily-mailed food items. pretty awesome. so i took that $20 and got myself coffee, then went to c) and SHE STILL HAD SOMEONE IN THERE AND WAS LIKE "uhh, i have a meeting with someone" and she'd told me to come back in a half hour when i was there first, that's what i did, so she HAD to deal with her mistake because i was giving her that "YOU BE FUCKING RESPONSIBLE YOU ASSHOLE" kind of glare, which really works because of how young i look. they feel like they've failed as a parent or something.
so she checked out my language background (which you can tell just from reading this, i know, I AM THE LANGUAGE MASTER) and i explained how stump-advisor-from-the-swampy-boggs-of-awful told me i was eligable for french 102, making it so i only needed one year of a language (ohhh yeah). however, i never even took the french test, so i didn't know what was going on there. i haven't taken french, or any sort of a language, since i was sixteen. but i coerced her into just letting me have the 102. i'll go ahead and struggle. i'm behind as it is, i'll work my ass off to just not have to take ANOTHER CLASS.
b) was eventually captured and forced to sign and accept me as advisee. i proceeded to d), scone in hand and determined as hell to clear up all of this, and i am now nestled into the system as a psych major, once and for motherfucking all. i am only signed up for three classes (women in history, french and creative writing), but i'd like to talk to wiley new advisor before i commit to a fourth. i'll have to explain to him how i'm math-retarded and climbed arduously through levels of sped-math at community college before coming here where none of that meant anything and i'd have to start all over, and how i mean to go back this summer and finish math there so i can get on with my life, take stats here, take the rest of the courses i need to complete my BA, graduate, get married, have 2.5 kids and all he has to do first is understand. UNDERSTAND THAT I'M MATH-RETARDED OR I'LL NEVER ATTAIN HAPPINESS.
now i still have to go to the library and have strong words with a librarian about the whereabouts of the placement of the journal of personality assessment. where the hell is that thing?!!! after personality theory i am going to bed. i don't even know if i'll have dinner. i just want to go back to bed.
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start