Ineligible
Well. So. Today's been quite the fucker of a day.
It was, of course, totally freezing when I woke up this morning. It is unseasonably cold here, in most yucky and depressing ways. The other day I woke up and it was six degrees outside; walking to and from the bus I can see my breath steaming in the air. And the landlord has decided not to turn on the heat here (these things cost him money, you see) so it's only a few degrees warmer inside than it is outside. (I am sitting bundled inside my winter fleece housecoat over my jeans and turtleneck, my hands off-colour and cold.)
So, yes, freezing when I woke up, and drizzling, and so I ran back inside to get my umbrella and because of this missed my bus. I was so close that I watched it drive away. But it was okay, really, because I took the subway and actually managed to get to my class on time.
I forgot my lunch on the counter.
Hearing strange rumors about degree requirements all of a sudden, I decided that it would be in my best interest to go and get a degree checklist and just make sure that everything is all right. Universities are so partial about these things, after all. So I get the checklist and I fill it out, and looking at the checklist everything looks wonderful, I have everything I need ... except that I don't. I have followed the Division of Humanities requirements to the letter. It's just an additional Faculty of Arts requirement THAT ISN'T ON THE CHECKLIST that I'm missing.
That's right: missing. I need another 6 credits at the 4000 level. With my current courses, I am ineligible to graduate.
I shall not repeat my very long, very involved string of cursing.
This is, I'm afraid to say, totally my fault. At the end of last year I just got myself the hell out of that place, choosing not to go to the totally pointless advising appointment. I mean, after all, I worked at a freaking advising office and had the Division checklist. What more could I need? And though, yes, the advising appointments ARE pointless (there are no advisors, just professors who blink in confusion at all your questions) I should have gone to the Humanities staff—the real people who know what the hell they're doing—and made sure that everything was okay. But I didn't. Great choice, me.
So, I thought to myself, be rational. Be calm. Think this through, make a plan. So I went to the library and looked for 4000 level courses that I can take. To put a complicated situation simply, there are none that I can get into at this point, either because of scheduling, lack of space in the course, or due to the time that has elapsed since the beginning of the semester. I went back to the Humanities office to speak again with the woman there at the counter—the helpful, wonderful woman who knows what she's doing.
I am saved if I manage to find a professor to work with on either an Independent Study or Independent Reading course. The lovely-good thing about this would be that either one would be a topic/etc. chosen by me, with the professor in question's permission. The uncertain thing is who I can find who will supervise me for something that I'd actually like to do.
I'd love to be able to do creative work for this, but that means that I will have to go find one of the Creative Writing people to help me out on this. (Though I am somewhat wary, the prospect of being able to do the project that I'm considering as part of my degree is very exciting, I admit.) If that's not possible ... well, there are options. I'm sure that there are options. I will figure this out, somehow.
Then my professor for my last class of the day didn't show up. Don't know why. Took about 45 minutes of waiting until we decided fairly conclusively that no, she was not coming. Which meant that I'd actually hung around York for a few more hours than was absolutely necessary but ... well. I left, I came here to my lovely but absolutely freezing apartment, where I ate some macaroni. I cannot vote today because I cannot prove that I live in Toronto, and though I could vote if I was in Halton/Peel/etc. (aka. the place where I officially live) I am not there. So I am left hoping that everyone else is able to kick that weasel Ernie Eves out of office.
Now I am going to watch some TV, and read some books, and ponder some stories, and pile as many blankets on top of me as I can possibly manage. If you'll excuse me ...
