Day 307
This morning I woke up repeatedly starting at 3:40 am due to the fact that my white noise-making machine quit on me last night. Thus began my day with the fan search. But before I began searching for a fan I thought I should make an appearance in my department. I had to ask the admin lady if I could indeed be a TA Coordinator or not as I am an International student and we do not qualify for many work study-funded positions. When I went in to ask her she said there are ways of working around things and then she asked me about the Creative Writing Student Association and said, "You were going to be in charge of that this year, right?" I paused and finally replied, "Oh yes, sure, of course, I am very excited about it." Hopefully it didn't sound like, "I totally fucking forgot all about it, kinda. Whoops! I am a dumbass and you shouldn't trust me with responsibility."
I went to my secret hideaway coffeeshop this afternoon where I heard some creeper old guy talking to two barely-20 girls. And remembered the creeper guy like that at my old coffeeshop and felt homesick. Luckily, no matter where you go there will always be the coffee creeper. After a little while a herd of six year old boys came streaming out of the coffeeshop and ran up the street yelling out the lyrics, "When I get older, I will be stronger just like a waving flag!" And the nasty cockles of my heart were warmed. Then, I didn't get anything done.
For this scholarship I am applying for I have to write a "Financial Circumstances Statement." The description for this section is kind of vague. I am wondering if they would appreciate a short answer like, "Broke" or "Destitute" or maybe I should be more honest and write, "hilarious."
I went to the local business supply store to procure a fan. They only had a few models so I picked the cheapest one as it didn't really matter because they were all quite shitty. I brought it home and started to put it together while I was watching The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air and that fucking ghost show where they never, ever catch any ghosts on tape. So I get it all out of the package and line up all the parts and I even read the directions. Since I suck at building Lego pirate ships I totally take pride in the assembly of simpler things like fans. Anyway, I put it nearly together when I realize that the crappy nut used to hold the fan blade on is made out of plastic and it doesn't quite fit into the screw. This pisses me off to no end as 1. I didn't get any sleep due to lack of fan-age. And, 2. I paid 20 bucks for that fan. In Canada they must find it hilarious to charge double what we would pay in the U.S. for cheap household items. So, no fan + no ghosts = double suck. Thank God, I had freeze pops and no bathtub to slit my wrists in.
I took back the fan before dinner and exchanged it for another one. This reminded me of a few things. 1. I had to walk there because I don't have a backpack big enough to carry the fan and don't trust it on the handlebars and walking sucks. and, 2. They didn't have a bag big enough to hold the fan box at the office supply store. Seriously? Don't tell me you don't have a bag. Anyway, I got it returned and grabbed another one, trying to guess from the crappy packaging which one wouldn't be broken. Turns out I picked the wrong one, again. Or, none of them can be assembled properly. Or, I am not doing it right which is not possible, nevermind.
At dinner I sat next to a Canadian guy that I hang around. Usually I pick on him and we laugh and he sings. Well, to be specific, he sings and every song he sings turns into a barbershop-sounding number. Tonight though, he started going on about what is wrong with America and what he thinks the American government should've done with its money throughout the years. To which I responded, "You know what's really annoying? When every goddamn Canadian in the world not only possesses but feels obligated to share their fucking opinion of what the U.S. is like and what the U.S. should do when they have never even lived in the U.S. Fuck you." "What?" he asked. "I said, fuck you, pretty sure you heard me." And the rest of dinner was spent in silence until he said, "It's a good thing they don't give us use steak knives at dinner." "Yeah, for your sake," I responded. Then it went back to silence.
After dinner and my fight I walked to the drugstore to get another fan. When I got there it turns out that they did have fans for sale. When I looked closer at the fans I realized that they were two bucks more. When I looked even closer it turns out that the fans they had were the exact same fans that they had at the business supply store just in slightly different generic packaging. Then I did the thing that I most hate people doing in the world considering how many underpaid cunt-stomer service jobs I've held--I started to tell my life story regarding today's fan debacle and how I couldn't sleep, as though the lady cared. This fan thing is turning me into a monster. We'll see what tomorrow brings but, if I continue to be a bitchy cunt-stomer who thinks that anybody cares I will have to find someone to kick my ass or spit in my food.
Tip of the Day: As it turns out watching that extra couple of hours of The Simpsons and Family Guy doesn't actually make you funnier conversely, it makes you a little bit sadder.
-Canadian Castaway
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