Arrrrgh!
Your Uncle Whiggles is not a happy bunny. He has just been into the university to pay a visit to his adviser of studies who, it turns out, was not around. After waiting around for half an hour, I paid a visit to the departmental office, who informed me that this was most unlike her, and that no, they had no idea where she was. I'm sure there's a perfectly logical explanation for this (or if not, one will be conveniently fabricated), but this is pretty typical of the Department of English Literature. I left a note impressing the need to reschedule before Tuesday, when I'm supposed to matriculate (by the rules of the idiotic system put in place for registration this year, you can't matriculate until you've seen your adviser). What makes this so annoying is that I'm sure whatever will be said to me when I finally do get to see the elusive [Dr. Tarantino] could just as easily have been said via a phone call or email. In fact, given that tomorrow I have to enroll in my course, no-one will be in at the weekend, and Monday is a holiday, I'll suggest that we do just that once (if) she finally gets back to me.Update, 13:23: Apparently, [Dr. Tarantino] was in a different room from what was communicated to me. I don't know about you, but when I receive a list of advisers, I generally assume that the room given on the list is the one I should go to, not some other room that no-one has bothered to tell me about. Well, I'm off into university again in another 45 minutes. What fun!
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