My Wretched Day

It started out not so badly, you see. Got up, showered, dressed, had breakfast, made tea. Realized that my interview was in twenty minutes and that it takes ten to drive there, and so did not get to drink my tea. The first bad thing of the day.

The interview was not horrid, but I was nervous. Also, the ladies interviewing me were very casual, which was a bit off-putting for me. That is, I was not entirely sure how to interact with them, because it was very different from the atmosphere one usually encounters in an interview. So that made me more nervous. They said they would be making the decision today, and that I would hear back by five.

I came back to the house, and called EWU to check on whether they had received my transcripts yet. I had faxed Biola with my transcript request ten days ago for EWU, WSU and CSUF, and none had received them yet. Eastern confirmed that they still did not have it. The lady I spoke with was so lovely and nice, she made me feel as though everything in the world would be all right.

So then I called the Biola Registrar. They did not answer their phones. I called again and again, finally left a message, and then continued to call about every ten minutes. Finally they answered. I asked whether my transcripts from my request on the twelfth had been sent. They are very far behind, so nothing on my account has been entered into the computer. She leaves me on a soundless hold for about ten minutes while she (supposedly) rummages through papers. I had to check my phone about once every two minutes to make sure that I was still connected. Could they not at least have had some horrid music or something? No, just dead silence. Anyway, she came back, finally. (I realize I am switching back and forth between past and present tense, but I really do not care at this point.)

"Emily? Your transcripts to San Diego State got sent on the seventh." I know that. Ye gods, did you not listen to me at all? "No, the request I sent on the twelfth." ... ... "We never received any other transcript requests from you. Are you sure you sent them?"

At this point I started crying. I am so frustrated with life and already emotionally unstable this week from having to come back to Washington, and from being worried about my interview from that morning. Yes, I sent them. Yes, they went through. So essentially, they lost them, but refuse to take responsibility for it. Now, my EWU and WSU applications are due on the first of February. I had my requests turned in in plenty of time, but now they make me re-fax my requests, and I have to rush-order them, which costs ten extra dollars per transcript. Forty extra dollars, just because the stupid Registrar people lost my paperwork. I know that I am not the only person to whom this has happened. My mom drives me, sobbing, to her work to re-fax.

I do not have the money for this. My credit card is nearly maxed out, my savings account is dwindling, I have loan payments due on the first, and a phone bill coming up, and other stupid expenses. Stupid Biola, I can not wait until I am no longer dependant upon you.

I finally manage to calm down. But then five o'clock comes and goes, and I still have not heard from the credit union about the job. So I stress until seven-oh-five when my phone rings. I am sure you have guessed by now that I did not get the job. And if so, then you guessed correctly. I really wanted it, too. So that sucks. Anyway, anything more I would say here would just be whining, and I do not like doing that. So I will close.

Blessings on your travels,
Emily.

2. Gatorade

I have decided to start writing intermittently on those topics listed below. I am starting with Gatorade, because it is easy and unemotional. Mostly amusing observations. Right now, I am on my laptop in a lovely little cafe with free wireless. I don't particularly like using my parents' computer. It is an old PC, with awkward keys and an old internet browser. I don't have administrative privileges, so I can not download any programs, and my dad won't...I think that he thinks it will slow the computer down more. Which may or may not be true. Anyway, it is always nice to be somewhere where I can use my own computer. This cafe is especially nice. There is a large television with Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade playing, which, while distracting, is rather fun. Good movie.

Anyway. Gatorade, yes? I never have cared much for the drink. But two things are on my mind about it. First is a series of commercials that was on television a while ago. I do not remember when...it may have been a few months, or a few years. Each commercial would have one or several athletes being athletic, and they would be...oozing neon liquids. It was strange. And then, at the end, it would say on the screen, "is it in you?" And all I could ever think was, "Oh goodness, I hope not."

The other thing was more recent. One day, when I was collecting recycling, I came across an energy drink can. This is not at all uncommon. In fact, it is tragically very common. I do not understand how people consume these things, really. There was often one half-full in a trash can, which I would have to dump out, and I simply can not imagine drinking something of that color. Anyway, this particular can had written on it, "By the makers of (Gatorade symbol)" If you don't know, the Gatorade symbol is an orange lightening bolt. So a normal person should have read it as "By the makers of Gatorade." But I, of course, read it as "By the makers of lightening." And then my associative mind jumped to Zeus, and the idea that he would make energy drinks, which suddenly made sense of them, considering all of games the gods always played with the mortals.
My mind? Random.

Blessings on your travels.
Emily