The Passion of the Angry Dave

It has risen.

I wasn't in that bad a mood yesterday, even though I saw my train heading away as I was walking to the station. That didn't bug me too much. I knew there would be another train soon.

What got to me was when I got home, there was a flier from As Seen on TV University telling me that my last chances to register were yesterday from 3pm-7pm, Friday from 10am-3pm, and Monday from 10am-7pm. Needless to say, I was more than angry when I noticed that the postmark indicated that it was mailed yesterday. This was when the spark became a flame.

After realizing that I would have no chance to get into anything I wanted on Monday, I had to go then. I called my best friend, made arrangements to borrow her car for the night(as I didn't want to carry heavy textbooks nearly two miles), and I headed to school to get all matriculated. It was there that I discover how screwed up they are. I sent in my request to resume some 2 weeks ago. They didn't process it. Grand. Lovely. Got that straightened out. I went to Financial Aid, they still haven't fixed the default that one of my loan companies put on while I was in classes. Got that fixed. Paid some $205.91 because they haven't sent me any bills for, well, 9 months or so. Thanks, guys. I appreciate it. I head to Student Services to prove to them that I have insurance. They're nice, but they're also the department that kept me out of last term, because I couldn't get there during their office hours to prove that I had insurance. I tell them that, and they laugh it off. Again, thanks guys.

Next up: Academics. Thanks largely to myself, I have been in school so long that the curriculum has changed. Again. I now need to take all these extra classes. I'm not terribly mad about this, as I'll be learning the "cutting edge" programs like C# and VB.NET, so I let it slide. My advisors at this station, by the way, are two old professors of mine. We chat, we reminisce, we have fun. Next up: Data Entry. But oh wait! There's a mysterious, hidden step they don't tell you about. You have to stop and get approved. No one says this, except the person who's determined that she's the boss. I was annoyed. My suggestion to put an official step in between scheduling and data entry falls on deaf ears, which doesn't surprise me. Schools are notorious for ignoring decent suggestions that help the student. I finally get to data entry. My schedule is input. My schedule prints out. I must be insane, trying to take 17 credits and work full time.

I buy my books. I head home. I eat. I step down to the bar and have a couple drinks as a nightcap, and as a minor celebration of the end of my free-wheelin' weeknights, as I don't have any more for 15 weeks.

Barf.