Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner
Yeah, I know I haven't posted anything about the last day of "boot camp", but it's been kind of rough the past few days. Nothing serious, just having to scrap with the Grad School about my status as a Graduate Student (the system has me listed as an Undergrad, and apparently the installation of She Who Must Be Obeyed has caused more trouble than it's worth except to HE my lord the chancellor's dick size). Mea Koopa -- er, Culpa (damn Catlicks).
Anyway, Thursday went rather quickly -- we only took half the day -- but was not without event. After walking down the hill and practically on to Sixth Street to find the key office, several of us discovered that the simpering fool behind the counter would not accept our cards because there was a smudge over part of the signature. Trekking back up the hill, we found Chad in a state of high dudgeon; after he finished chewing out the key shed guy, he signed our cards, and some of us went back down the hill, only to discover that Key Shed Guy didn't have any building or mailroom keys. It's the key office. Shouldn't they have the ability to make keys?
That was Thursday. Friday found me shuffling around the Grad School offices, trying to straighten out my good name -- a feat made impossible by the imposition of ISIS. My paperwork, like so many people's, is lost in the shuffle, but should be sorted out really soon. I'm hoping damn soon, because after next week I'll be in dire straits vis-a-vis financial aid and billing, not to mention the fact that classes start next Monday. I'm going to find the engineer who designed ISIS, as well as the administrators who decided to impose it on us, and I will eject them bodily into space. Perhaps twice.
But I also bought books yesterday, which made me feel ever-so-nice, especially since I'll be in the Grad Seminar on Science Fiction. It'll be like sixteen weeks of candy.

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