3:46 p.m. x 2008-03-19
currently listenting to: "wait" by pj harvey
the odyssey of my futile attempt to drop middle ages class began monday afternoon during my counselling appointment. at around 3:15, after 15 minutes of crying over how much stress the class' workload is causing me, counselling dude informs me that i can still withdraw. WHAT?! now...i could've withdrawn at any time. i hadn't before because i have the horrifically masochistic impulse in me (nothing but detrimental if you list "student" as your occupation) to never quit anything i commit to. what is that shit? anyhow, he realized that it was the last day to withdraw, and so he let me leave. we rescheduled our appointment, and i ran to registrar. i RAN.
they made it very clear to me in there that i had to a) FILL OUT THE FORM, b) PROCURE THE SIGNATURES OF MY PROFESSOR AND ADVISOR, c) SUBMIT THE FORM BY 4:30. 4:30, everybody. it was 3:30. so i scooted manically to the academic center, home of just about every extraneous classroom and office, and i found my advisor immediately. sweet. my professor, however, was not in. i realized i lost my cell phone. i cried and threw the form away.
all right, was that lame enough for you? if it was, i don't suggest reading further. yesterday i really out-lamed myself.
i decided, after successfully making it to film, that i would have a chat with my history professor. i hadn't opened my mouth yet, so my voice was absolutely terrifying and he couldn't keep a straight face listening to me (what a guy). he told me he would be absolutely cool with anything i could manage to do, but that it would be my advisor, if anyone, who pulled the strings to grant me an extension.
this part is painful, so i'm going to make it as terse as i can: i was granted an extension, but slept through it. yeah. my advisor made me feel as if there was no hope, so i woefully accepted this, went to my room and fell asleep crying. then i woke up to an angry email about how he went out of his way to help me and i didn't respond to phone calls or emails (on a phone that's never been used - i list my cell # as my contact EVERYWHERE, so i was not expecting anything to come through the room phone [and...i was...asleep]). so i felt like a fucking moron.
melody and i chilled out in a lounge and got some angst out of our systems. i accompanied her to a poetry reading by a man with the last name "harms", and during the reading i spontaneously broke into a coughing fit. that was new to me, and i couldn't stop no matter what i did. i started crying again and had to run outside, where i magically encounter a little lady armed to the teeth with ricola. insanity.
i'm 2/3rds finished with my history assignment for tomorrow and am taking a victory break before i go out to dinner with melody, the CONFIRMED FUTURE ROOMMATE. ahhh next year will be better than this year. or i'll kill it. i'll kill it in cold blood. brutal fucking murder!
if anybody should ask i'm going to a seminar
pieces of the moon
sensitive heart, you're doomed from the start