1) I’m applying for grad funding for next September. That’s right…next September. Apparently it takes a year to read over the proposals, and decide who’s idea is crap and who’s isn’t. Not that I’m complaining…they did give me a grant for this year. But my. good. god applying for these things is tedious. I have to provide a ‘plan of study’ (read: outline of my super special ideas and why they are more special than other people’s ideas and how I plan on studying these super special ideas), transcripts from all of my universities (that’s three), a list of academic accomplishments, a list of academic awards, a two page general information form, a summary form, a checklist that demonstrates that I have all of the things I say I have, and two academic reference letters. FOR EACH FUNDING APPLICATION. And no, you can’t use the same forms for each application because they are all slightly different. God. I could be working on my actual ideas – instead, I’ve spent the last month begging for money.
But believe it or not, that’s not the irritating part. Right before one of the applications was due, my academic reference backed out because he had to leave the country. So I went in search of another reference and found two. One of these individuals wanted to help but enlisting her would have meant a day of traveling out of the city and back to get said help. The other individual was able to do the whole thing on line. Guess who I picked? Right so he agrees, I send him the forms and instructions and all is going just swell. Five. days. later I get an email from the department asking where my second reference letter is. If I can’t find it by end of day, my application will not be complete. Consider that I have spent a week pulling this bad boy together, a week that I could have spent doing other things like crying over l-dog’s absence, or my lack of a sex life, or you know, working. So naturally I was cheesed. I email this fellow. Nothing. Sometime later, I email again….nothing. I am stressing. I call other potential references to see if they feel like writing a little ‘ezmy is so awesome and smart’ note in the next 30 minutes. These profs give me their condolences, but naturally cannot help me as they are teaching/on safari/etc. Then, miracles of miracles, the guy suddenly emails (1 hour before the deadline) and submits the reference. Some sort of family crisis. I should feel sorry for him. But I don’t. Really, really it would have been SO HARD to email me on the Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday to say ‘hey ez, so there’s been a bit of a crisis here and my letter will be late…could you let the department know’?? I wasted an ENTIRE day which I did NOT have frantically looking for another back up reference that I didn’t end up needing….@#$%!!
2) Zoe, my darling little kitten, has taken to destroying every piece of furniture she can pee on. In the past two weeks she has ruined the following: a couch cushion, a chair, and a futon mattress. In the past year and a half, she has ruined the following: a couch cushion, a chair, and three futon mattresses. Now, I’m not mad at Zoe or even really that irritated with her. I understand what it must be like in Boney land. Two weeks ago, we introduced a two year old male cat into the home. Her home. He’s twice her size (as all normal cats are), goes by the name of ‘Lucifer’, and hates her almost as much as she hates him. So she’s retaliating. Awesome. No, I’m irritated at myself for forgetting over and over again to get protective sheets for the bed. Never again. Tomorrow, I am spending $280 that I DON’T have and buying a new mattress and rubber sheets. Added bonus? I can pee the bed if I like I suppose. But that’s not really my thing.
3) Sarah Palin insists on talking. Seriously, can’t she just go away? The only thing good about her is Tina Fey’s impersonation of her and while I absolutely adore Tina Fey, I don’t need Sarah Palin in my life that bad. Indeed, I think she’s a hazard to my health and well-being. I would be irritated by her if I ran into her on the street and she was just your average ignorant jesus-loving-pro-life-anti-gay-baby-making-machine wench. So help me if she becomes VP…or worse, P. Seriously, what do we do if McCain kicks the bucket as people over the age of 70 tend to do? Hoist the black flag I say. @#$%.