That Thing About Silver Lining?
When the only possible solution to my University-being-ASSHOLES problem was to delay my academic progress and postpone my Anatomy course for yet ANOTHER semester after I was finally able to enroll, I decided that for once in my life I would speak up. I wrote letters, checked facts, talked to Chairs of Departments (read: my awesome Australian Kinesiology Chair who totally participates in our Friday afternoon dance parties), and was ready to pull out any stop and raise hell to ensure my enrollment.
Lo and behold, it worked. A lovely little email arrived for me from my lab instructor, informing me that because of my science background (read: science PROWESS!) and my excellent recommendation from another lab instructor (read: my friend Anne who decided to write a letter on my behalf telling her colleagues that they would be idiots not to keep me into the course) I would be allowed to continue in the course this semester.
I'm not gonna lie, I was bouncing up and down. I even had to take a break from the very contemplative iChat conversation I was having with
icedaemoness to go and bounce.
*BOING BOING BOING*
Amazing how the stress can sneak up on you and plague you without even a hint as to it's presence. Bastard stress.
Okay, in the grand scheme of things, it's not the biggest, most important thing to happen to me or in the world. But it's definitely a sigh of relief.
I've been spending some time in weasel wrangling, per
icedaemoness' suggestions and encouragement. So after spending a frustrating bit of time with the weasel wrangler (read: therapist) and getting an assignment to keep a journal of self-love, which didn't seem like an option, and to keep another notebook with food intake, exercise, and pills logged in daily, which seemed like a backwards way to get myself to admit to some kind of eating disorder. It was the subtle (okay, maybe not so subtle) kiss of positivity I needed to press on through.
Alice: I was just wondering if you could help me find my way.
Cheshire Cat: Well that depends on where you want to get to.
Lo and behold, it worked. A lovely little email arrived for me from my lab instructor, informing me that because of my science background (read: science PROWESS!) and my excellent recommendation from another lab instructor (read: my friend Anne who decided to write a letter on my behalf telling her colleagues that they would be idiots not to keep me into the course) I would be allowed to continue in the course this semester.
I'm not gonna lie, I was bouncing up and down. I even had to take a break from the very contemplative iChat conversation I was having with
icedaemoness to go and bounce.
*BOING BOING BOING*
Amazing how the stress can sneak up on you and plague you without even a hint as to it's presence. Bastard stress.
Okay, in the grand scheme of things, it's not the biggest, most important thing to happen to me or in the world. But it's definitely a sigh of relief.
I've been spending some time in weasel wrangling, per
icedaemoness' suggestions and encouragement. So after spending a frustrating bit of time with the weasel wrangler (read: therapist) and getting an assignment to keep a journal of self-love, which didn't seem like an option, and to keep another notebook with food intake, exercise, and pills logged in daily, which seemed like a backwards way to get myself to admit to some kind of eating disorder. It was the subtle (okay, maybe not so subtle) kiss of positivity I needed to press on through.
Alice: I was just wondering if you could help me find my way.
Cheshire Cat: Well that depends on where you want to get to.