Strange Things and Weirdos VII
Today has seen perhaps the strangest Berkeley occurrances that I have ever witnessed. It began early.
I received a call at 8:30am this morning from the national lab, telling me that they were working on getting my fellowship together but some paperwork was holding them up at the university. They asked me to check with the administration at the university about payment, etc.
This was pretty incredible: someone in the administration department was going out of their way to track down my problems and get them resolved.
I went into the administration offices and got a normal occurrance: the person I was supposed to talk to was not there. I came back 15 minutes later, and there she was. I braced myself for ignorant run-around, rudeness, and/or complete lack of brains. The next strange thing hit me then: the adminstrator in charge of the graduate fellowships was nice and very polite. She explained to me what I needed to do, and asked if there was a contact number for the administration at the national lab. I told her the name of the contact, but told her I needed to go look up the phone number and that I'd bring it back down.
I had to run to class, so I went to class, then retrieved the contact number for the national lab. I was about to run it downstairs to the administration offices when I got a call--from the national lab. Apparently, the administration official downstairs had looked up the number for the contact person on her own. I couldn't believe it. The system was working for me. This was definitely weird.
The national lab told me that they had already spoken to the administration at the school and they had everything worked out. I was stunned. I haven't had this much ease in dealing with the department since... ever. Everything with this department is an uphill battle, even if I'm trying to pay them for something. I dread going down to the fourth floor where the administration offices are kept. Walking into the administration offices on the fourth floor is like being a naked 10-year old boy walking through a NAMBLA convention--you know you're going to get fucked. But not today. I don't know what happened, but everyone was nice. They were helpful. They knew what they were talking about. I'm a little creeped out by it all, even though everything has been good. I'm waiting for the bubble to burst, waiting for everything to come crashing down around me in pieces; maybe they won't pay me for 6 months; maybe they'll forget to deduct tax and I'll owe $3000 at the end of the year; maybe they'll mix up my social security with an INS number and when I try to walk past the big men with machine guns at the gate, they'll grind my face into the pavement thinking that I'm Rico the Columbian drug runner.
If all goes as planned and I am not confused with an illegal immigrant, I will start at the national lab on Monday. Then you all will get to talk to the nice men from one of those alphabet agencies sometime soon.
This is by far the strangest day that I have had here yet.
I received a call at 8:30am this morning from the national lab, telling me that they were working on getting my fellowship together but some paperwork was holding them up at the university. They asked me to check with the administration at the university about payment, etc.
This was pretty incredible: someone in the administration department was going out of their way to track down my problems and get them resolved.
I went into the administration offices and got a normal occurrance: the person I was supposed to talk to was not there. I came back 15 minutes later, and there she was. I braced myself for ignorant run-around, rudeness, and/or complete lack of brains. The next strange thing hit me then: the adminstrator in charge of the graduate fellowships was nice and very polite. She explained to me what I needed to do, and asked if there was a contact number for the administration at the national lab. I told her the name of the contact, but told her I needed to go look up the phone number and that I'd bring it back down.
I had to run to class, so I went to class, then retrieved the contact number for the national lab. I was about to run it downstairs to the administration offices when I got a call--from the national lab. Apparently, the administration official downstairs had looked up the number for the contact person on her own. I couldn't believe it. The system was working for me. This was definitely weird.
The national lab told me that they had already spoken to the administration at the school and they had everything worked out. I was stunned. I haven't had this much ease in dealing with the department since... ever. Everything with this department is an uphill battle, even if I'm trying to pay them for something. I dread going down to the fourth floor where the administration offices are kept. Walking into the administration offices on the fourth floor is like being a naked 10-year old boy walking through a NAMBLA convention--you know you're going to get fucked. But not today. I don't know what happened, but everyone was nice. They were helpful. They knew what they were talking about. I'm a little creeped out by it all, even though everything has been good. I'm waiting for the bubble to burst, waiting for everything to come crashing down around me in pieces; maybe they won't pay me for 6 months; maybe they'll forget to deduct tax and I'll owe $3000 at the end of the year; maybe they'll mix up my social security with an INS number and when I try to walk past the big men with machine guns at the gate, they'll grind my face into the pavement thinking that I'm Rico the Columbian drug runner.
If all goes as planned and I am not confused with an illegal immigrant, I will start at the national lab on Monday. Then you all will get to talk to the nice men from one of those alphabet agencies sometime soon.
This is by far the strangest day that I have had here yet.
Labels: Strange Things and Weirdos
posted by ChemicalJesus at 10:56 PM
1 Comments:
Woot! I love talking to the FBI. Nowhere else besides a federal courtroom to I get to invoke my 5th amendment rights that often. :-)
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