It's like high school. With less money, actually.

Okay. There's this department at school. A department that shall remain nameless. A department that's actually quite easy to figure out because I'm really only intimately acquainted with two departments, and, well, this is one of them. Anyway. The professors in this department are basically little children and spend their days searching for ways to screw each other over.

Unfortunately, the students involved sometimes get screwed over, too.

Like me. Who is enrolled in an advanced independent study course in this unnamed department. At UWM you need to fill out a study proposal form detailing exactly what you're going to do for the class in order to get credit. I talked to my professor, he told me what to write, I turned in the form.

Except the second person who had to sign the form doesn't really totally like my professor. And maybe kind of totally didn't accept the form because (s)he didn't like what my professor wrote on it. Leaving me without the required study proposal form completed.

Cut to Wednesday, when I happily go out to get the mail. Look! There's a letter from the College of Letters and Sciences. Ooh, this is exciting. I love getting letters from school. Since they stopped sending paper bills, all my correspondence from UWM is always happy- I don't want to toot my own horn but they don't send out letters unless you're failing or doing well, and believe me, you'd know if I was failing something. Hell, you'd know if I got a B.

Except this was not a happy letter. This was a mean letter, yelling at me about this study proposal that I have yet to submit. AND HEY, MAYBE YOU'RE NOT A SENIOR AND MAYBE YOU DON'T HAVE A 2.5 GPA STUPID WHORE.

What. Oh, no. You do not tell me that I'm not eligible for independent study. I am a senior. And I do have a 2.5 GPA. In fact, the only reason this is a problem at all is that MY STUPID PROFESSORS CAN'T ACT LIKE ADULTS.

So I had to fill out a new form with way more information (field trip- whee!) and turn it in have Katie turn it in, and so help me God, you guys in the Unnamed Department had better put on your big girl panties and DEAL WITH IT because I AM AT THE END OF MY ROPE DO YOU HEAR ME? 18 credits, cancer, thesis avoidance writing, grad school applications, and mounting credit card debt because shopping is a way better way to deal with this than, like, actually working.

So DON'T MESS WITH ME.