Because of the idiocy of wrong wording on a form, I am now going to have 11 days to get my student loan money… Until those 11 days are up, I can not attend any of my classes, nor move in. After calling the housing director, being transferred four, FOUR, different times (the fourth one being back to the housing director), I’ve worked it out so I can move in. I can even go to class if my loan approval letter will come in the mail. Here’s how today went:
I woke up because my phone was ringing. I almost didn’t answer it because I didn’t recognize the number. However, I did answer the number. The lady (who was rather rude by the way) said my self certification form was incorrect, more specifically Line C was less than the amount applied for. Well, the instructions for Line C say, “Difference between amounts A and B”. After reading the rest of the paper you find out, “If you borrow more than the amount on line C, you risk reducing your eligibility for free or lower-cost federal, state, or school financial aid.” The entire time I’m looking at the form, and trying to explain to this rude woman, I have no clue what I need to do, or even what she’s saying, I’ve wasted thirty minutes (30!!!). Finally, I said, “Okay, sure, I’ll figure it out. Thank you so much for your help.” and I hung up. Four phone calls, two emails, and one rather annoyed person later, I’m finally ready to call back to the bank.
This time the lady (thankfully not the same one) was super patient. She gave me all the information and numbers I needed, told me I where I can go to fax the form free, when to call back to speed up the process. After another two phone calls, I found out the financial aid office at LMU is closed today. So, I called my close friend (she’s probably tired of me by now) Lesley Chumley, the director of housing at LMU, and she got me all situated.
And here comes yet another phone call, trying to figure out when the little brother’s band practice is, if it has changed, and why no one can do anything on their own. Finally, I say I’m done with it all, and start slamming the cabinet doors in the kitchen, when I find cake mix and icing.
I combine all the ingredients, beating the cake mix furiously. I didn’t even use the mixer thingy. I just beat away until all the lumps were gone. And now, I have 10 more minutes until my Cake of Frustration has been throughly beaten and baked to a fiery death in the stove.
And that, my friends, is how cake saved me from killing everyone in sight.
Happy Baking (and knitting of course)!
