The Aftermath: what happens when you almost accidentally run over the dean
I decided to check my apartment's mailbox finally today and the only thing I got was a shoe advertisement and . . . a letter from the "Office of the Dean" of the Vet college.
I gaped at the crisp white envelope with the official crest of the college stamped on it. I'd gotten letters from the Vet college before but I'd never gotten one directly from the dean.
I panicked.
Several things ran through my mind as I walked up the 3 flights of stairs to my apartment on the other side of the building.
"This is all because I almost ran over him on Tuesday isn't it? ISN'T IT?! AHHHH! So he DID recognize me!!! I'm gonna get expelled! Or maybe it's a warning for parking in the Vet hospital CLIENT ONLY stalls. I'm a goner."
Then another thought hit me.
"What if this is a warning letter about my poor academic performance on my last pharmacology exam? I heard they give you a letter if you get less that 60% and that you have to go see your advisor. OH CRAP!"
I got up to my floor and by now my mind had worked itself into a frenzied hysteria.
I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned against the fire extinguisher case and quckly opened the letter.
Dear Vivian,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been awarded a bursary in the amount of ______. Congratulations and best wishes for a successful academic year.
Sincerely,
Charles S. Roberts
Dean
I nearly fainted I was so relieved. Not only did I not get chastised for my reckless driving, I was getting money for it! Maybe there's a benefit to almost running over the dean. Maybe if I hadn't done that, he wouldnt have remembered who I was and my application wouldn't have stood out. Maybe he knows I need the gas money!
Whatever the case, this is cause for celebration. Who knows? If this is how it's done, maybe I should have tapped him a bit with my bumper.
WHeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Am off to eat a celebratory frozen pizza and spinach salad.
Oh, but before I go, in response to Feroza's comment from the other day about cleaning my watch with a q-tip and baby oil:
Good advice Feroza, but I don't think you understand. It's not a fleck of drool here and there. I had to wring out the cloth straps of my watch after that lab! It was like I had essentially dipped my entire watch into a bucket of cow drool. Either way, I washed it with soap and water and took your advice about the club soda. It's still got that dairy-cow stench going on but not nearly as bad as before. Besides, I kinda like that smell . . . thanks for the advice!
Oh and Wayne, I'm afraid I can't join you on a shooting/hunting trip as I've promised myself the only time I'll shoot something is if:
a) "It's coming right for me!"
b) It's going right for someone I love
c) It's writhing on the ground dying in agony in front of me
and
d) if it ate my last oatmeal raisin cookie
OK. So I'm joking about a few of those.
But seriously.
Stay away from the cookies.
You have been warned.
I gaped at the crisp white envelope with the official crest of the college stamped on it. I'd gotten letters from the Vet college before but I'd never gotten one directly from the dean.
I panicked.
Several things ran through my mind as I walked up the 3 flights of stairs to my apartment on the other side of the building.
"This is all because I almost ran over him on Tuesday isn't it? ISN'T IT?! AHHHH! So he DID recognize me!!! I'm gonna get expelled! Or maybe it's a warning for parking in the Vet hospital CLIENT ONLY stalls. I'm a goner."
Then another thought hit me.
"What if this is a warning letter about my poor academic performance on my last pharmacology exam? I heard they give you a letter if you get less that 60% and that you have to go see your advisor. OH CRAP!"
I got up to my floor and by now my mind had worked itself into a frenzied hysteria.
I couldn't take it anymore. I leaned against the fire extinguisher case and quckly opened the letter.
Dear Vivian,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been awarded a bursary in the amount of ______. Congratulations and best wishes for a successful academic year.
Sincerely,
Charles S. Roberts
Dean
I nearly fainted I was so relieved. Not only did I not get chastised for my reckless driving, I was getting money for it! Maybe there's a benefit to almost running over the dean. Maybe if I hadn't done that, he wouldnt have remembered who I was and my application wouldn't have stood out. Maybe he knows I need the gas money!
Whatever the case, this is cause for celebration. Who knows? If this is how it's done, maybe I should have tapped him a bit with my bumper.
WHeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!
Am off to eat a celebratory frozen pizza and spinach salad.
Oh, but before I go, in response to Feroza's comment from the other day about cleaning my watch with a q-tip and baby oil:
Good advice Feroza, but I don't think you understand. It's not a fleck of drool here and there. I had to wring out the cloth straps of my watch after that lab! It was like I had essentially dipped my entire watch into a bucket of cow drool. Either way, I washed it with soap and water and took your advice about the club soda. It's still got that dairy-cow stench going on but not nearly as bad as before. Besides, I kinda like that smell . . . thanks for the advice!
Oh and Wayne, I'm afraid I can't join you on a shooting/hunting trip as I've promised myself the only time I'll shoot something is if:
a) "It's coming right for me!"
b) It's going right for someone I love
c) It's writhing on the ground dying in agony in front of me
and
d) if it ate my last oatmeal raisin cookie
OK. So I'm joking about a few of those.
But seriously.
Stay away from the cookies.
You have been warned.
posted by Viv at 4:25 p.m.
2 Comments:
I wouldn't expect you to shoot animals, I just meant the shooting range. We would shoot targets and maybe water filled balloons, or cream filled balloons. I got my first gun when I was 12, it was a 20 gauge shotgun. It was an abused shotgun, that had seen many years of neglect. My dad removed all the rust, and repaired and laquered the stock. The first time we went out to use it we brought water filled balloons. It was fun with a shotgun because sometimes a few bullets would hit the balloon and it would just squirt away. Then when I was 18 I got a 270 Semiautomatic rifle, which I have never used to kill. I prefer my dads 243 lever action rifle, smooth action, light weight, and a good flat shooting deer gun. But now that your friends all thing I am some serious red neck, I will stop myself.
It's a cloth watch strap? I thought it was metal. In that case, just Febreeze it until you cannot Febreeze it any longer. Or, if you hate the chemical thing, squeeze lemon juice onto it.
Sucks you'll miss the Our Lady Peace Concert. But congrats on the bursary!
P.S. invitation's in the mail!
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