One Of Those Days

Yesterday was cold, drizzly, and just generally all-round dreary. Weather like that makes my thrice-operated-on knee throb and ache, so I started the day off in a lousy mood. I stumbled into the kitchen and started the coffee, then headed for the shower. Got out of the shower and discovered I had neglected to put coffee in the coffee maker, so all I had was a carafe of hot water.

Things went downhill from there.

After remaking the coffee, I was running late. So of course I hit every red light on the way to work. Every. Single. One.

Once I got there, the students were more whiny and the administrators more unreasonable than usual. Plus our crack IT tech support team, over my heated objections, dragged me kicking and screaming from Windows XP to Windows 7. Of course, they did this while I was out of the office.

When I returned I couldn't log on (they'd changed the password). Once that was straightened out I found that I couldn't print. Nor did my PC speakers work. My Bookmarks had escaped into cyberspace, never to be seen again.

The final insult was loss of my local administrator privileges. I use some specialized software that is unique to my needs ((statistical analysis packages, research databases, etc.). Our tech support group has no expertise with those packages, so I support them myself. Now I can't even install the latest Java update.

When I asked tech support to fix the problems they had created I was advised to "submit a work order."

At this point I could feel steam billowing from my ears.

So of course it was time to go to a committee meeting.

This particular meeting was to update certain procedures and forms required to apply for research and travel grants. Most of the changes were routine. I would estimate that about 80% of them were simply changing the dates from 2010-2011 to 2012-2013. The remainder of the changes were equally mundane. When I asked why we had to meet to approve the changes, rather than do so by email, I was informed by some supercilious administrative twit that this was Policy, and one simply does not question Policy.

My initial reaction was to tell him and his precious Policy to kiss my All-American rosy red ass, but I bit my tongue and kept my mouth shut.

After the meeting a colleague asked me why blood was dribbling down the corner of my mouth.

Back to my office. Check email. Find out two more equally senseless meetings had been snuck onto my schedule for next Friday afternoon. FRIDAY FRIGGIN' AFTERNOON!!! I became a college professor so that I wouldn't have to attend meetings on FRIDAY FRIGGIN' AFTERNOONS!!!

Blood pressure exceeds safety limits. Head explodes.

At that point I figured my head had been through enough for one day. It was now time to punish my liver.

Oh well, as Scarlet O'Hara once said, "tomorrow is another day."