I walked the ten minute two blocks to school in weather that could only be described as "bullshit." I spent another ten minutes trying to find the fourth floor of a building to which there is only one fourth floor accessible stairway, tucked in some hidden corner. I sat in my professor's office and discussed transcripts, audits, and tried not to notice that he was, without a doubt, the most disorganized man I have ever met. Ever watch that television program Hoarders? Imagine that; but worse.
As it turns out, he is not my adviser. As it turns out, I will have to petition for transferred credits to meet certain requirements. As it turns out, my orientation adviser was a liar.
"The updated audits list someone else as your adviser, so why did you come to me?"
Dr. Liar told me he had assigned you as my adviser.
"All of these credit dates are incorrect from what you tell me. And you have not done any of the follow-ups to determine which requirements your transferred credits meet?"
No. Dr. Liar said everything was fine. Dr. Liar spoke nothing of "follow-ups."
"Did he tell you he was leaving the college a week after your orientation? Didn't you think he may have been doing a lousy job, considering he wouldn't be accountable when you actually started the semester?"
Dr. Liar assured me he would take care of everything.
"Well, in the case of the petitions you're going to need some paperwork. Syllabus' and course descriptions from a handbook should suffice. Have those?"
No. I do not have paperwork from classes I took nearly six years ago.
"Hm."
Hm.
"Here's the literary information you requested and four people you need to talk to. They should be able to resolve everything."
Thanks. And the PE credits?
"I don't know. Do you like the book I assigned for class?"
Sure, Dr. Trumble. It's surprisingly good. If you'll excuse me, I need to smoke a cigarette, ponder the possible ramifications of developing another aggressive relationship with a school's administration, and get to class on time. Thanks for all your help.
"See you tomorrow morning!"
Maybe, Dr. Trumble.
Maybe...