Tuesday, May 19, 2009

Hop, Skip, and a Week

A week break is so not long enough.

The escaped-Nazi war criminals who plan our academic calendar, in their infinite wisdom, give us just a little under a week from which to recover from the probably-Geneva-Convention-violating experience that is finals before the summer session kicks off.

This is PLENTY of time when applied to us, but such a short period of time when applied to activities such as processing financial aid and, God forbid, posting grades that were submitted to the Registrar's office well over two weeks ago.

"They can't post grades until after finals are over."
Mama Lo doesn't understand this. "Why can't they?" She asks, sounding alarmed, like maybe she's expecting an explanation like, the building will turn into a puppy-seeking missile if they try to imput grades a day too early.
I try to explain to her that it's not that they can't, I just strongly suspect they don't want to, so, they turn to that slackasses best friend: they make a policy.

Sorry, we can't post until after finals. And the day after finals, we have to have a cool-down period. And since the system updates in the middle of the night, like a refugee fleeing the homeland, nothing will actually post until about the following Monday. It's policy, dontchaknow.

The sick thing about finals is that you have a few, blessed hours in which you care nothing about school and want to be free of anything that reminds you in any way of law school and then the panic starts to set in. You know that grades will not be posted for weeks, you know that even if some miraculous professor actually turns in grades, you've got days before it shows up, you know that even when something does post, it only updates once a day, you still feel compelled to obsessively check the page once every half an hour, like maybe something will slip through the cracks.

I think it goes without saying that I was not ready to do 60 pages of reading and then sit in class for three and a half hours.

Up next, a fun-filled week of cleaning my house (eek!) to get ready for a parade of visitors including Fitz, Scott, and Lisa (YAY! VISITORS!)

Also, WHY in commercials are two people talking about a product, say, facewash, lipstick, vagisil and the person giving the "pitch" just happens to pull it out of their purse? I mean, I guess I can understand the lipstick, or pain pills. Something you might actually have in your possession, but Clearasil? Seriously?
Is it really necessary? And why do I care?