Monday, MONDAY, Monday.
Monday was supposed to be great. It was supposed to be the proverbial “first day of the rest of my life.”
It was, however, the quickest descent into panic stricken anxiety mankind has EVER seen.
Guinness certification, pending.
So here’s the run down of my day’s series of unfortunate events:
I got up early. I really did. I was up at 7! I didn’t have to be to Temple until 10:45; so I was doing the most so that I would be on time.
Mommy said that she’d go and run a pre-school errand with me. We went and let’s just say it didn’t work out the way that I wanted it to. I wasn’t exactly told no, but my proactivity was most certainly NOT rewarded!!
So I then had to go to Bank of America to get my address changed from RI to NJ. For a split second, when I walked into the bank, I thought my luck was about to do a 180 for me.
I was wrong.
I walk in and there is a free customer service booth free!! WHOOOO!!!
Not so fast.
The girl working this desk was a certified MORON!!!! First I had to wait for her to acknowledge my existence…That…never happened. So I got sick of waiting and I just got up from the waiting area, which only contained my mom and myself, and sat myself ever so politely in front of her. AND WAITED. She says, “Oh I was about to call you over.”
Yes and Christmas is well on its way as too. <–Annoyed.
Mind you I'm still on a very tight timetable: I got to the bank at 9:20ish and now it's 9:35. So I let her what I need. Why did she ask me the same question 3 times??!!
I proceeded to use very small words as well as short condensed phrases so she wouldn't become disoriented and Hulk the hell out and flip that big A desk on me.
I finally get my address corrected and now it's 9:50 and I haven't eaten breakfast yet!
So I get in the car with my mom and ask her if she would make me some oatmeal while I look up a few last minute details about Temple and where I was supposed to go. She said sure.
…I had to make my OWN damn oatmeal!!
DAMNIT! Now it's 10 and I haven't had a chance to do my research.
I turned MacLovin on and I pulled up the most recent emails from the program director and figured out (ehh…) where the morning meetings were going to be held.
I say my goodbyes and peace out.
By the time I make it to the car I already forget WTF I'm supposed to be going because I'm so nervous.
WHOOOOOO! It just keeps getting better!!!
So I say eff it and I just start driving.
So I channel Danica Patrick and get my NASCAR on doing about 80 down 295. And I make good time too! Got to the toll plaza at 10:20!
This is where it all goes to hell.
I'm following my GPS and realize that it's taking me to the TUCC campus (you know the one that's across the street from City Hall.) So I cancel the request for that destination because, you know, I got this. I know where I'm going.
Yea, no. I didn't.
I knew I needed to be on Broad Street; and I WAS on Broad Street.
I was just going the wrong way.
For a good 10-15mins.
So I make what I like to call a "Philly U-turn"* and head back North on Broad to make up my last 10-15 mins plus an additional 10mins in the right direction!
*Note: A Philly U-turn is the most annoying U-turn ever. Why are the streets numbered like that!!?? UGH! Basically you have to go down 2 streets to find a street that is going the way you need it to! <– Confusing, but stick with me. Then you come up those same 2 streets on the other side and make a fantastic little square/rectangle and waste a decent 40 seconds to a minute navigating this catacomb of streets.
I finally get to streets that I recognize (Spring Garden, Girard, Cecil B. Moore, Montgomery) and now I'm feeling a bit more at ease…or as much as I possibly could be since my ::ahem:: genetic predisposition for being late has decided to flare up and kick me in the ass…again. <–Yea, I said it. AND WHAT!?!
So I actually see Temple buildings, and now I need to park.
I circle the block 3 times looking for the Visitor lot…I kept riding past it.
So I finally get to the lot and I asked the attendant how much it costs to park there.
My inner cheapskate had a heart attack! I begrudgingly rummage through my stuff and get the money out and give it to her and also ask her to point me in the right direction of Alter Hall.
And all of a sudden I have a FRANTIC voicemail from one of the Associate Directors of Admissions who's worried about me.
So I follow the directions the attendant gave me…and ended up a block and a half in the wrong direction!!
So now I'm pissed, sweaty, nervous, oh, and LATE! <–SO mad.
I finally get inside.
WOW! WOWWY! WOW! WOW!
So THIS is what $90million dollars looks like.
NOICE (Berine Mac voice).
I jump on the elevator and get to the top floor and I hear some woman raaamblin on and on about sooomething. No clue.
I spot the Associate Director that called me and I repeatedly whisper my MORTIFIED mea culpas as he hands me a mountianous stack of neon colored forms and an awesome messenger bag with "Fox International MBA" on the front. <– Oh you you fancy, huh?!?
You damn right.
The rest of the day was an informational whirlwind! I don't remember half of what was said, and I REALLY hope I am not alone on that.
So we finally finish at 4, but I can't go home. Noooooooo. I have to go to Financial Aid because I keep getting E-mails stating that my bill of $23,500 is due August 5th. <– Pssh, shittin' me!
So I'm ready to go in there and tell them that they have made the biggest mistake EVER.
Come to find out, yes, yes I DID owe them $23,500, but no one told me. No one sent a letter stating, "Yo, your financial aid from the government only covered X amount, so you need to fill the gap.” No one said that.
I need to apply for a direct loan.
I’m not gonna get it. I KNOW I’m not gonna get it.
Here’s why I thought that: There has been an “issue” that I have been dealing with for almost a year and a half now, as a result of me trying to help someone out who was in a bad situation. Silly me for trying to do the right thing. So needless to say my ass is continuously in a sling because of this.
So I’m driving home, up Broad, in some of the slowest traffic I’ve ever encountered! Finally get over the bridge, get gas, get hit on by the old, well intentioned, I assume, attendant who asked me to go to Atlantic City with him because “…As good as you look, baby, we’re sure to win!” (Hmmm maybe that’s why I always win in AC.) Then I head home on my “mission” to find me a loan.
So I start with the Grad Plus loan; which, please, I’m not going to get.
Fill out all the boxes.
Miss a few.
The page silently yells at me with bright red X’s and a taunt sentence that states I cannot move on to the next page until I have completed the required information fields.
Yea, yea, yea.
So I get everything in, tell it how much I need, look over the info I entered to make sure I wasn’t lying and I hit ‘Submit’.
::Sigh:: I’m not gonna get it.
(Processing)…Wow I’m REALLY not going to get it.
Congratulations! You’re approved! <– STFU!!! NOOOOOO WAAAAAAAY!!!!!
And now, NOW, I'm HYPE!
I'm in sheer shock and disbelief!
I'm a Temple Owl!
And for the first time, all day, I smile. A genuine, happy, glowy, smile.
Haha…"Fellas say 'Hooooooooooo'! Girls say 'OWL'!
Speak your mind…