Christ, all these looming deadlines. This is the last week to make anything in ceramics class; I have to hurry up and drop that stupid algebra class this week (I asked the instructor to do it but she hasn’t, and she’s under no obligation to do so); I have to mail that useless aircard to Cingular, BIG TIME; and by April 21st I have to fulfill all these requirements for the Voc Rehab program. That last one in itself is a doozy: call and make an appointment with some veterans’ group therapy program (pfffft); provide a list of jobs in my area toward which I can aspire; oh crap, there’s a bunch more that I can’t remember right now. Oh, rustle up my transcripts and provide an associates’ degree plan, which is all they’ll fund for me right now. :-P But the good news is, once I meet those requirements, later on they’ll help me with my bachelor’s. *sigh*
April 14: enroll for summer! I have to find out whether, under the 2003 catalog, I’m required to take a foreign language. If so, I’ll take intermediate German—just saw that they’re not being taught by the brown-shirt bitch I had before. There aren’t any ceramics classes offered over summer. Should I take algeblah? Erg. Oh, call the Sylvan Learning Center regarding this.
Those cats keep locking themselves in the bathroom! Wazzup with that?
Do NOT want to go to English class. Lost my enthusiasm since a classmate pointed out what a perve the professor is. And since the classmate himself is a weird motherfucker, he oughtta know. I’ll do what other students do; take my notebook and, while pretending to take notes, surf the net on the campus WiFi.
2:38 PM
I raced to class, slightly late. Fortunately, the instructor was late too. Now he’s chomping ass because not everyone showed up to some reading last Thursday. I meant to go, but shit happens. The more I hear this guy talking about writing creatively as a career, the less I want to do it. I’m SO glad I’m not a creative writing major like I wanted to be at first. CW majors are so self-important and there’s only so much ass-blowing I can take.
Take heart, take heart, there’s only, like four more sessions to attend. Really hate CW workshops. Last day of class: May 1.
Who in the U.S. says “ad-VERT-us-ments” instead of “AD-vert-ize-ments”? My teacher, for one.
Someone in here is suffocating me with her perfume.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 3:25 PM
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