You know, I don't try to hate the college. Seriously. I'm not naive; I know I can come across as a pretty negative, sardonic type of guy every now and then. (By "now" and "then", I mean "always" and "even more than always", of course). But I honestly go to school in the morning expecting to have a calm, quiet, normal day where I don't have to yell at anyone or contemplate how good a lawyer I would need to get away with the things that school makes me want to do. (Typical conclusion: A very, very good lawyer.) This morning I was a little tired, but dreading my evening at work infinitely more than my day at school. So naturally, my Writing for Business professor, she of the legendary humourlessness, came to class and announced some assignments that I am positive were taken from a book called The absolute most fucking ridiculous things you could possibly ask Ian to do, ever.

First, we had to analyze and critique the open letter that the CEO of Wendy's published in all the national newspapers after the death of Dave Thomas. First thing to my mind was this: that 100 people had probably already edited that damn piece, and any trace of anything incorrect or inappropriate had inevitably been cut. Second thought through my head was that the Wendy's people appear to be a bunch of stupid fuckheads for pulling the Dave Thomas TV commercials so quickly, so I frankly wasn't interested in discussing the language of their public circle jer... I mean, loving tribute. Fuck them.

Second, we got another of her ridiculous role-playing assignments. "Pretend you're the third executive assistant to the Minister of Small Fluffy Bits Of Lint and Other Fluff That May or May Not Be Lint of Trinidad & Tobago, who is writing a letter on behalf of the second executive assistant who heard a second-hand anecdote to the effect that while the minister was dining at a reception held by the Vice-president in charge of Decorative Crockery for the International Monetary Fund, he ate a bad prawn and felt ill the next morning, but also quite enjoyed the after-dinner music and wondered where he might purchase a recording from the band." While this is naturally an exaggeration for comedic effect (HA HA!), her actual assignments are only marginally less inane. But at least when I've finished her course, I'll be ready for an exciting career in the field of writing letters while pretending to be other people and fabricating all the important details. Assuming that's actually a career field and not the fast track to an indictment on fraud charges.

Thirdly, another round of always-delightful peer-editing, which, as I have mentioned previously, is the only thing I enjoy more than slamming my fingers in a car door while felating a senior citizen. The peer editing came at a very stressful moment during the 80-minute class, and so I sort of lost it. To make a long story short, I informed my professor that I was one sucker who wasn't going to tacitly endorse her shenanigans anymore, and that I had no intention of paying any heed to an editor who couldn't produce, at minimum, a bachelor's degree in English from a fully accredited university, and I may have implied that in the event of a problem with my personal stance on the issue, my professor could go to hell.

After that class, I had hoped to just get a quick bite to eat and head to my film class, which is always fun and thought provoking. Except it turns out I've been de-enrolled from that class, because the various departments of the school can't work closely enough to deduct enough money from my student loans to cover all the classes I've enrolled for. So I need to fork over another $540 before I can get back into my two electives. Thank the kindly gods of postal efficiency that the check for the remainder of my loan money came today, so hopefully I can get this cleared up before the next class I got kicked out of starts tomorrow.

But I'm assuming that the bureaucratic hoops I'll have to leap through will once again preclude a calm, quiet, normal day where I don't have to yell at anyone or contemplate how good a lawyer I would need...