Wednesday, January 30, 2008

In a funk

NDD gets around -- he's apparently met someone else that he wants to concentrate on. Which I guess is for the best, but I feel unappreciated. I was willing to consider dating a newly divorced man with teenage children -- shouldn't I get some kind of medal? His ingratitude, along with the internship department's intransigence, has put me in a funk.

I sent a nicer, less confrontational version of the letter to Dean Evillene. Focusing on the fact that I'm working at an advanced second-year level, and overlooking her department's gross incompetence. Her response was brief and chilly:

Ms. Survivor:

This email is in response to your letter of January 29th which was laying [sic.] on my desk when I returned to my office yesterday.

To complete the degree here you must complete the number of hours in Field [sic.] this School [sic.] requires. You must make up the 200 hours that were not completed in your first 2 semesters.

You ended your letter by saying "I hope we can resolve this matter at this level." This is the resolution at this level: this School requires 1200 hours of Field for the number of credits allocated regardless of how advanced the student may be judged to be in their practice. This policy applies to all students in your program.

I have copied Ms. Eleanor Feckless on this email response. Your letter was copied to Prof. Fun and Dr. ED-DHRSJ, but it is Ms. Feckless who was responsible for your placement and to whom you should have first addressed your concerns.

Dean Evillene

Sigh. Now I have to file a grievance against her and her incredibly incompetent department. I'm so tired of all this.

Also, I'm apparently the worst daughter in the world. It was my mother's birthday last Sunday, and I forgot to send her a card or say anything in our weekly phone call. Largely because our weekly phone calls are hazardous to my serenity.

Mom was worried about the gap on my résumé between leaving my last job and starting at my current school -- i.e., my distinguished tenure at The Bad Place. I told her I didn't intend to mention it. That apparently wasn't a good idea, although she couldn't tell me what I should say instead. She just kept repeating and repeating that I couldn't lie or completely omit that experience. She also intimated that Dr. Arnold was right and that I needed to discuss my Bad Place experience with Dr. Roda some more.

I got completely frustrated, agitated, and fed up. And when I remembered, the next day, that I hadn't wished her many happy returns, I didn't call. Talking to her just does not help. She ruminates, and worries, and repeats herself endlessly, and it's like she's taking a cheese grater to my brain.

Fortunately, talking to Alona and Adir does help. They recommended that I say, "I was enrolled in a doctoral program, but it wasn't a good fit. I called a former professor of mine, who had taught in that program, to talk about things, and he advised me to consider social work. I visited the school, spoke with some students and faculty, and developed a real appreciation for the social work contextual approach. I also thought it would be great to have a licensable degree in less than two years rather than five or six."

Essentially what I had said to my mother at some point, amid all the rumination and repetition. If I weren't so guilty about missing her birthday, I think I'd feel more justified in hanging up on her.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

2 comments:

  1. Alona and Adir gave it to you straight. And it's unfortunate that your mom can't be there for you the way you need. Maybe visit someecards.com and find something you'd like to send her. Don't send it. But it'll make you smile all the same.

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  2. I forgot my father's birthday also! Luckily, he hates his birthday and was happy enough when I called him a day late. But I sure felt bad. It's hard to juggle everything.

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