waiting on a Sunday afternoon, et cetera et cetera melancholy and mumbled syllables
I'm filing an appeal to reinstate my Federal Financial Aid eligibility. No thanks to a financial advisor whose salary is paid via my tuition and fees.
Unfortunately, your withdrawals from four years ago are considered as a part of your course completion percentage.
I needed a 67% course completion rate to be eligible. My percentage is 66.6666666 (and so on)%. Go figure, they don't round up. Apparently, they didn't attend seventh grade arithmetic.
Any documentation you provide with your appeal will certainly help your case.
I'm confident that my appeal will be approved by the committee. My GPA is excellent; I've showed much improvement and academic promise in the last two or three years; I've been hired as a housing employee for the next academic year. I'm a model student.
I have to call my therapist. I have to call my doctor. Produce records of clinical depression. Prove that I was mentally unfit for college. Present a copy of a death certificate. Prove that there were reasons for my mental and emotional (un)health.
In case you forgot, we'll continually remind you.
Not that I forgot. Father's Day was yesterday. PMS kicked in last Friday. Period starts tomorrow.
My birthday is in less than a month.
I have someone waiting by the phone. Someone that I sometimes don't want to talk to. Someone that I sometimes need to talk to. Someone I never thought would hold my thoughts. Someone I always knew would hold my thoughts.
And the bottom line is, I still don't know what I want.
I can't even figure out what I want today, let alone for the summer. Or for the next year. Or the next decade.
At the moment, cigarettes and 90's grunge suffices.
Unfortunately, your withdrawals from four years ago are considered as a part of your course completion percentage.
I needed a 67% course completion rate to be eligible. My percentage is 66.6666666 (and so on)%. Go figure, they don't round up. Apparently, they didn't attend seventh grade arithmetic.
Any documentation you provide with your appeal will certainly help your case.
I'm confident that my appeal will be approved by the committee. My GPA is excellent; I've showed much improvement and academic promise in the last two or three years; I've been hired as a housing employee for the next academic year. I'm a model student.
I have to call my therapist. I have to call my doctor. Produce records of clinical depression. Prove that I was mentally unfit for college. Present a copy of a death certificate. Prove that there were reasons for my mental and emotional (un)health.
In case you forgot, we'll continually remind you.
Not that I forgot. Father's Day was yesterday. PMS kicked in last Friday. Period starts tomorrow.
My birthday is in less than a month.
I have someone waiting by the phone. Someone that I sometimes don't want to talk to. Someone that I sometimes need to talk to. Someone I never thought would hold my thoughts. Someone I always knew would hold my thoughts.
And the bottom line is, I still don't know what I want.
I can't even figure out what I want today, let alone for the summer. Or for the next year. Or the next decade.
At the moment, cigarettes and 90's grunge suffices.