Absence Makes The Heart Grow Fonder…

…but a day spent struggling through insane amounts of red tape will do well to disabuse you of that notion.

When I thought ‘it feels like I never left’ when I stepped into Sunnyside Residence yesterday afternoon, I should’ve taken it as a sign that something was not right.

The minute my Accommodation Officer told me I’d have to pay R98 for the “extra night”, I realised that registration was not going to be a pleasant experience. I mean, how can I be confident that the staff are qualified to help me, if the people in charge of writing and sending the registration e-mails can’t be trusted to provide accurate information? The letter said one thing, but it was up to me to not give the university the benefit of the doubt, and phone to check that they know how to read a calendar? To me, “from the 14th to the 16th” doesn’t mean that I should only arrive on the 16th. Then when I went into the office with that information- the information which the university had provided– I came out looking like a fool. Strike One.

Next, I had to brave the lines at the Faculty Office. When I got to speak to someone there- after I was told that they don’t reply to e-mails, and that I “should’ve phoned”- because there’s always a “should’ve” when The Suit is wrong- I was so offended by how the lady took it upon herself to “advise” me on the direction my studies should take. She sat there talking about ‘if you take this subject next year, then you’ll fail it, then have no time to make it up before you can graduate’, and I just couldn’t believe what she was implying! I mean, did she really expect me to be all like ‘yes, you’re right’, when she decided to criticise my end-of-year results and interrogate me about “maintaining a standard”? Really? Talks like this I can handle if they come from my dad, yes, because he’s the one paying for everything. But a lady at the Faculty Office should not be trying to give me anymore “advice” than I ask her for. I thought it was rude. Strike Two.

At the end of the day, I was so over walking up and down this ridiculously hilly campus looking for people to sign stuff or stamp stuff. The whole experience just had me thinking “why did I come back here, again…?”, and the only solace I had was knowing that I only had to suffer through all this bureaucratic stuff once or twice a year, if I did it properly.
I’m still asking myself if it was really worth coming back early (“early” according to that memo I didn’t get, that is), but until someone does something to warrant a third strike, I’ll be okay.