Oct. 16th, 2004

evadne_noel: A man and the cresent moon in a rowboat (better check the oven)
I. Hate. Everything.

Sound a little extreme? Well, it’s not. To explain, let’s take the Way Back Machine all the way back to, well, two weeks ago. So, not that far in time.

At this point in time, I was working on a midterm for Theory of Public Communication. You really don’t need to know anything about it except that it is a) difficult, b) long, and c) boring as all get out. I spent all weekend on this stupid paper, only to forget that on the same day as this midterm was due, I also had a news release and pitch letter due for my Public Relations Writing course. So, Monday, at one in the morning, and Tuesday, in between classes, I am desperately trying to bang out my writing assignments. Which would be fine if the Writing professor (who, don’t get me wrong, is actually a really great person and teacher) hadn’t assigned the most uninteresting and un-newsworthy article in all of Creation to be turned into a news release. So, there I was, exhausted from spending all weekend writing my midterm, trying to turn network affiliated television stations and their public service announcement schedules into something even resembling exciting.

(Note: I managed to get something written. I don’t know how good it was, as I have not gotten a grade yet.)

So far, my week is off to a wonderful start. It should, in theory, be getting better. After all, I’m supposed to be going home to CT for the weekend to see my parents and friends. But first, there’s the Internship and Job Fair.

Which should be fine, right? Been there, gave my resume to that. Except, when I sign up for the Fair, I get an email reminding me that I need “Professional Dress.” For those of you not in the know, “Professional Dress” = a dark suit. And guess where my suit is. That’s right, in CT, where I’m going on Friday. Which, you see, is totally helpful as the fair is on Thursday.

Luckily, my friend Erin comes to my rescue and lends me one of her suits. Unfortunately, it doesn’t fit that well, as Erin is about a head shorter than me, and we’re totally different body types. And, the suit has 80s shoulder pads, so I look like a linebacker. Oh, and I look like a flight attendant in this style of suit. A flight attendant about to try out for the Packers. But, hey, at least I have shoes that match, right?

Riiiiight. But more on the shoes later, because it’s still only Wednesday, and something else happened. My roommate (who, you’ll remember, is hilarious) gets sick. Really sick. So sick that she goes to the Emergency Room Wednesday evening. She’s got flu like symptoms, but there are so many disease other than the flu that have flu like symptoms, so there’s reason for concern. The hospital discharges her, and she comes back home and passes out on the couch.

Flash forward to 5:30 on Thursday morning. I’m asleep, and I wake to someone calling my name. My roommate is still on the couch (she never made it to bed), and she asks me to call an ambulance. She’s got a temperature of 102 and she literally can’t move because her body aches so much. I call the front desk, they call an ambulance, ambulance comes and takes her back to the hospital. I try to go back to sleep, but I can’t because my roommate was just taken to the hospital, and I have to get up for work in about two hours. So, no more sleep for me.

I go to work, which, if you remember, is a Teaching Assistant job at my university. This just sucks on principle. After work, I go to the Job Fair, and it’s about this time that I notice my feet are killing me. My shoes (remember, I said I’d get back to those) don’t fit very well, and I don’t have nylons as my only pair had a run in them (of course). By the end of the day, my feet are blistered, and there’s blood on the inside of one because one of the blisters bursts during the day.

My first class (still Thursday) is fine, except for the fact that I’m wearing an ugly suit and my feet are killing me, but my second class brings me nearly to the breaking point. First of all, it’s a Research Methods class, and as anyone can in university can tell you, those suck. This particular class also runs from 8 pm to 11 pm. Added to this is the fact that my Research professor is from the moon, possibly further. We have a midterm coming up in a few weeks, and we’re supposed to be reviewing. Except the professor wants to review things we never learned in the first place! ARRRRGH!

But, my week is finally over, I can go home. My roommate is back from the hospital, and her mother is coming to take her home for Fall Break. So I can relax as I go home. Though, I do have to get up early for my flight, and it takes me two hours to get to the airport from where I live, and then I sat at the gate for two hours because I misplanned how long it would take to get there. But I went home. And it was good. I saw my parents, hung out with friends, and didn’t do any work (though, I should have). I didn’t have a computer, but, hell, I’m over it.

I get back on Tuesday, and suddenly it’s a rush to do all the work I was supposed to do on Fall Break. And, Professor Moon of Statistical Research Methods gives us all the wrong papers (again), and refuses to answer questions in class. I should also be coming up with a Power Point for my Theory presentation, but I’m just too tired. My break, while fun, wasn’t really a break. I spent it trying to coordinate with my buddies (LISA! MOLLY! RESPOND TO THIS, DAMMIT!) and running around like a chicken with its head cut off and no car.

So, here I am. Ranting at three in the morning in my livejournal. But if I can’t rant here, where the hell can I rant? What does this mean to you? Well, it means that I hope to answer all comments tomorrow, and, Lord willing, have a Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow Breadbox up by Sunday at the latest. Because, dammit, I saw that movie three weeks ago and only have time to write NOW. The long and short of all of this is:

I. Hate. Everything.

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