Cloudy with a Chance of Bones

We’re on day two of a crying, overcast sky and 50-53 degrees. But... only a few hours left! Rah, rah, rah!

I now officially have a hold on my ability to register for the spring semester. I called the Dean’s office Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and this morning trying to get somewhere, and received a different hoopla every time. Finally this morning they put me through to the Assistant Dean Broga, who crowed, in a tone a grandma would dispense upon a petulant child, "You’ve called several times..." Well, yeah, I’m kind of concerned here. She assured me that the Dean had my letter and claims she’s going to call me today after reminding the Dean that it’s there and I’m annoying the hell out of them by phoning every three days. I wonder what I should do if she doesn't call me back this afternoon. I don't want to royally irritate her and have her pass along a bad word.

It seems that the stress of the semester is beginning to weigh on our collective consciousness. This morning I walked into torts and eight guys along the back row were competing to get the highest score in an online game of Donkey Kong. I am going to file this experience away for my defense repertoire for when the next person contests my enthusiasm for Disney.