Alston: September 2004 Archives

Université de Montréal doesn't know who I am. How fucking typical. I'm not registered and can't get into a class for the fall session.

They say that they lost my application or such such shit. It's online for Christ's sakes. They don't ship fee statements to mature students, apparently, they have to show up and pay themselves, although they don't know exactly how much they owe. There's more, but I am quite pissed. Thankfully, I have all of my documentation. I'll call back tomorrow and be on hold for an hour.

I am neither amused nor surprised.

If I could, I'd blog, read blogs, read news, everyday. For a living. I'm pretty good at reading stuff that I want to online. If I had more time and felt less guilty I'd do a better job, I think. At home I'm with Rose, or playing some videogame, or something, which is why I don't blog more. But if I could do what I want to do for a living, then I might choose this for a while.

Anyone want to pay me for enjoying myself? I guess not many people get paid for that. I suppose I should spend some time here. There seems to be such an emphasis these days on finding what you are meant to do and going after it. But what the hell does that mean? Finding out why you were put here? What if I was put here to wonder why I'm here? Or to be tired of leaving messages all day (it's really not THAT bad)? And why is portrayed as a guarantee of a full and successful life? There are no guarantees.

Hmph. Pay me for doing exactly what I want to do, all the time. Pay me for playing Warcraft. Pay me for spending time with Rose. Now THAT's a charmed life.