South Park Self


Ah, orientation. Today I needed to be in four places at once, all of which were malfunctioning.

  1. Departmental information talks. Classroom facilities had not unlocked the audio-visual equipment boxes. When phoned, they arrived and unlocked half of the audiovisual boxes. They came back and unlocked the other half after I'd phoned them again, while lecturers tapped and fulminated.
  2. Curriculum advice for orientation students. Only two-thirds of the advisors turned up. When I'd rousted out the several who'd gone to semester study abroad registration erroneously instead, because apparently misreading timetables is not the sole purview of students, I had three-quarters of them. The last quarter are still AWOL, which means the queues are horrendous.
  3. Semester study abroad student registration. The international office had told them to come all at the same time for registration, ignoring the careful alphabetical divisions by which we manage the queues. It was chaos.
  4. Readmission appeals committee. The usual minute-taker was wrangling SSA registration chaos, so I had to deliver curriculum reports and take minutes simultaneously. On the upside, there were biscuits.

I seem to have the wrong life, officer. It has been erroneously issued to me. Please remove this inapplicable life and replace it with one which functions properly.

On the further upside, Friday wol is ready for its close-up. Also, glaring accusingly. Because this life is not up to spec.

I didn't realise RAC had any upsides at all.

See what a bright view you have of life that you can even see the simple pleasures of RAC. Like a ray of sunshine, you are.
Actually, RAC is curiously restful during orientation. At least students can't get at me. Also, the deeply depressing parade of terrible things happening to students is interspersed, with whiplash-inducing suddenness, with heart-warming, moving, articulate appeals which demonstrate that some students are struggling heroically against the odds. There is a definite glow one experiences when such a case is joyously re-admitted.

Gazelles. We like them, really.
Re: Owl
Three times I tried to open that link. Three times my browser quit on me. Three times!

'Tis not just Extemporanea's life which ain't functioning properly!