Or something like that. So, yesterday topped off my already interesting week--which is scary because it was only Wednesday.

To recap:

On Monday, I called Virgin Mobile about my phone and went through menu/holding hell whilst trying to discover why my phone refuses to transfer pictures. After following the directions given to me by the oh-so-not-helpful guy in the returns department, my phone still will not do what I want it to. I have since e-mailed the returns department to discover that, though you can send them e-mail, they do not handle returns in that fashion. Oh, and if I didn't buy my phone through them directly (I didn't), I can't return it through them. Great. Which means I now get to transfer my frustration to Best Buy. Naturally, they no longer carry the phone in question. This should be fun.

Monday night I returned home to find a sick cat. The Beloved and I went to the vet where we dropped a pretty penny on the visit, burn cream, and amoxicillin. Each morning and evening, the two of us give Polly her treatment. This involves The Beloved putting her into a sleeper hold while I clean the affected area (yuck), apply burn cream, and then move to the other end of the cat in order to force a dose of liquid amoxicillin down her throat. It's the same stuff kids take for ear infections and the like--pink, bubblegum-scented, sticky goodness--and the cat is as fond of it as most kids are. Perhaps someone should look at creating special cat flavors. I'm sure she'd like it more if it smelled like duck liver or chicken.

Since my experience is that this sort of garbage manifests in threes, I assumed that my third misery-causing experience is the continued absence of a reimbursement check for which I've waited two weeks (turnaround time for these reimbursements has generally been under five days). I'd gotten down to the "dangerously low" level of funds in my checking account where the bank sends me balance notifications every 12 hours or so, possibly in hopes that I will rectify the situation. Unfortunately, as I found out yesterday, absence of funds--while distressing--does not qualify as catastrophic enough to knock one's karmic balance out of decline.

The Beloved and I have our phone service through Vonage. One of the great perks of this is that I get an e-mail every time someone leaves us a voicemail message. Yesterday I find a 3 minute message from "Anonymous." Hmmm--unusual. "Anonymous" generally signifies someone trying to sell us something we don't want. They never leave messages that long. So I listen to the message at work. This turned out to be a gigantic mistake, as the message is from my Library School Adviser.

The gist of the message is: They have lost paperwork I sent in at the start of fall semester. My program of study form does not match my transcript. Because these two pieces of paper don't match, I haven't actually graduated. I may have to pay a continuing registration fee for this semester. Oh, and what was your internship about again, because I can't find any of that information either.

This sends me into a panic on, oh, any of a number of levels--from the fact that I'm all done giving the Library School money, to the horrifying realization that if the places I've applied to work call to confirm my completion of the program in December 2006, I have no idea what the registrar's office will tell them. This is not good. Because I am sane and rational and together, I shut my office door before bursting into tears and e-mailing something absolutely incoherent and rife with swearwords to The Beloved. Because The Beloved is an amazing man who can occasionally reply with just the right thing, he tells me that this is not my fault and we will not have to pay for it, because if the Library School screws me over with either another bill or by creating problems for a potential employer, well, that's why God created lawyers. (The Beloved used to be an attorney, so I have confidence in his assessment of what is and is not a potentially litigious situation.)

The hyperventilating ends long enough for me to e-mail Adviser (complete with concerns), fill out required form (again), get to second job, and fax the document. Adviser admits that this is their fault and not mine, that my records will state a graduation date of December 2006 since I did complete all the requirements, and that I shouldn't be charged any extra fees. Adviser also says that if potential employers have any questions, I should have them contact him. Theoretically, crisis has been averted, but man-oh-man--I just want to be done with Library School!

Needless to say, I finished off the ballband dishcloth last night. It's stunning. Well, for a dishcloth. I didn't even try to kill anyone with my knitting needles. Impressive, eh? Tonight I start the March dishcloth KAL and this weekend I'm going to attempt to make some progress on my unfinished projects. Last weekend, I actually wove in all of the ends on the Blue Lagoon Baby Blanket, which means I have no excuse for not picking it up and working on it while watching TV. Except for the watermelon hat I really want to make for a friend's baby....