Elysian
01-08-2004, 08:36 AM
Things that have pissed me off already this morning:
1. There I was, walking to my car from my dorm room. Picture me weighted down with these: a lunch bag on a strap (constantly slipping down my arm); a suitcase on a strap (on the same arm, slipping down); a tea mug, full of hot sweet tea; three books precariously held in the crook of the same arm holding the tea mug; a rolling bag filled with two books, a computer, five folders, another book by Reinquist, LOTS of highlighters, and various sundry things too boring to list; and then add the winter hat, hood, scarf, gloves, and large coat. I mean, you could hardly even SEE me, and I couldn’t see you, either, because I was wearing my stupid GLASSES, well, anyway…there I was, walking to my car, when lo and behold I attracted a parking lot shark.
2. I HATE parking lot sharks. I hate being rushed, especially when I’m holding all the items listed above. I get to my car, and try to open it. No dice. I check to see if it’s my car (yes, this tends to be a problem sometimes) and it is. I check to see if the key is the right one, and it is.
3. I look around, and yes, the shark is still there. I give her a meaningful glare. Then I try the key in the passenger side. It’s frozen solid too. I take off my gloves and try both sides again. Finally one unlocks. I start loading everything in my car. This takes about five minutes. By this time a couple of parking spaces further down have emptied but the shark hasn’t moved. She wants this place. It’s freezing cold, my legs are getting frostbitten through my pants, my arms hurt and she’s being a bitch. So I sit in the car and call my husband to tell him good morning before I drive anywhere (I don’t like to drive and talk) and by the time I’m ready to leave, that bitch is STILL THERE.
4. She wants it so much, I give it to her.
5. I get about ten yards away before I notice a piece of paper on my windshield. I stop the car, get out, and retrieve it. It’s a ticket from our dear Parking Services for parking in a CP lot when I have a CG tag. This is total bullshit. A CG tag can park in a C lot, and a C tag can park in a CP lot, therefore a CG tag can park in a CP lot, right? This is a $30 dollar charge when I paid $350 dollars for my CG tag. Oh yes, I have contested this, but it probably won’t do a bit of good. Those people over at Parking Services have the bit firmly between their teeth and will run away with your money just because they feel like it. And they will hold your diploma unless they pay them! Yes!
6. Here I want to insert a little love note to my optometrist: you are a total shitball. You ordered the wrong contacts and now I have to wear these painful old glasses until the new ones came in, and when I asked what diopter you were ordering you didn’t believe me when I said I wore a 4.50 diopter instead of 4.75 in my left eye, so you went ahead and ordered what you wanted and I spent two days with splitting headaches because my eyes were battling for dominance before I realized what was wrong.
7. All of this stuff is NOT CHEAP. I don’t have a job because 1Ls can’t hold jobs. How the hell am I supposed to afford a parking ticket AND new contacts AND another eye appointment AND a dorm room AND books AND tuition AND various sundry stuff on student loans without a job?
8. And I still want to smash the parking lot shark’s headlights in.
p.s. Professors, please pretty please make your syllabi clear, and that means page numbers instead of vague subchapter headings and confusing directions. That is all.
1. There I was, walking to my car from my dorm room. Picture me weighted down with these: a lunch bag on a strap (constantly slipping down my arm); a suitcase on a strap (on the same arm, slipping down); a tea mug, full of hot sweet tea; three books precariously held in the crook of the same arm holding the tea mug; a rolling bag filled with two books, a computer, five folders, another book by Reinquist, LOTS of highlighters, and various sundry things too boring to list; and then add the winter hat, hood, scarf, gloves, and large coat. I mean, you could hardly even SEE me, and I couldn’t see you, either, because I was wearing my stupid GLASSES, well, anyway…there I was, walking to my car, when lo and behold I attracted a parking lot shark.
2. I HATE parking lot sharks. I hate being rushed, especially when I’m holding all the items listed above. I get to my car, and try to open it. No dice. I check to see if it’s my car (yes, this tends to be a problem sometimes) and it is. I check to see if the key is the right one, and it is.
3. I look around, and yes, the shark is still there. I give her a meaningful glare. Then I try the key in the passenger side. It’s frozen solid too. I take off my gloves and try both sides again. Finally one unlocks. I start loading everything in my car. This takes about five minutes. By this time a couple of parking spaces further down have emptied but the shark hasn’t moved. She wants this place. It’s freezing cold, my legs are getting frostbitten through my pants, my arms hurt and she’s being a bitch. So I sit in the car and call my husband to tell him good morning before I drive anywhere (I don’t like to drive and talk) and by the time I’m ready to leave, that bitch is STILL THERE.
4. She wants it so much, I give it to her.
5. I get about ten yards away before I notice a piece of paper on my windshield. I stop the car, get out, and retrieve it. It’s a ticket from our dear Parking Services for parking in a CP lot when I have a CG tag. This is total bullshit. A CG tag can park in a C lot, and a C tag can park in a CP lot, therefore a CG tag can park in a CP lot, right? This is a $30 dollar charge when I paid $350 dollars for my CG tag. Oh yes, I have contested this, but it probably won’t do a bit of good. Those people over at Parking Services have the bit firmly between their teeth and will run away with your money just because they feel like it. And they will hold your diploma unless they pay them! Yes!
6. Here I want to insert a little love note to my optometrist: you are a total shitball. You ordered the wrong contacts and now I have to wear these painful old glasses until the new ones came in, and when I asked what diopter you were ordering you didn’t believe me when I said I wore a 4.50 diopter instead of 4.75 in my left eye, so you went ahead and ordered what you wanted and I spent two days with splitting headaches because my eyes were battling for dominance before I realized what was wrong.
7. All of this stuff is NOT CHEAP. I don’t have a job because 1Ls can’t hold jobs. How the hell am I supposed to afford a parking ticket AND new contacts AND another eye appointment AND a dorm room AND books AND tuition AND various sundry stuff on student loans without a job?
8. And I still want to smash the parking lot shark’s headlights in.
p.s. Professors, please pretty please make your syllabi clear, and that means page numbers instead of vague subchapter headings and confusing directions. That is all.