Cranky Face

Whenever I was in a bad mood in Eugene, Jose would sweetly look across the table at Full City, the local coffee shop, and say, "Are you a cranky face today?" In response, I would force my face into a scowl, full with wrinkled nose, furrowed brow, and pursed lips.

"NO!"

This routine is followed by peals of laughter from Jose, and, after a few seconds of scrunching my face into a more vicious scowl, a slow smile from me.

I was a serious cranky face today. I had my cranky pants on, and there was no way that it was going to be a good day.

It was the day that I would have to do all of the tasks at work that I had been putting off because I either don't really know how to do them, or they are so mundane that they make my eyes want to vacate my head to find a more interesting host.

After I had completed one job that had been looming over my head since last Thursday, I went off to proctor a final exam, which at least allows me to read for two hours, even if I do nearly collapse with low blood sugar because of the bad timing of the test. Upon returning to my desk at 2pm (14:00 for Danes) with my stomach sounding like Bjork's newest album, the DIS registrar caught me just before I could run to the kitchen to warm last night's curry leftovers.

"The Story Telling Exam that Frazer was proctoring was missing the final page, you know, the one with the essays," she said in an I-am-not accusing-you-just-letting-you-know kind of way.

I quickly searched the files in my brain that catalog my responsibilities.
Editing ECH Finals: Yes
Photocopying ECH Finals: Yes
Handing Complete Finals to Registrar for Distribution: Yes
Generally Taking Care of Everything Related to the Administering of ECH Finals: Yes

Overall Responsibility for Reported Problem: 100%

The registrar didn't need to say anything. Frazer, my fellow intern who was stuck with the problem (standing in front of 35 students who are wondering why their test isn't like it was supposed to be), couldn't console me with any number of optimistic and kind words. I felt horrible and nearly cried. And when I nearly cry at work, my response, if you can imagine, is to become even crankier.

I really hate failure. And I know that this problem was totally fixable. The students got the last page of their final, and they had enough time to finish, and Frazer got her lunch shortly after I got mine. But I just can't stand it.

On the grand scale of things, this was minor. I will forget about it tomorrow. What has struck me about this past year, however, is how differently things work outside of academia. This little problem affected 3 co-workers and 35 students. I am used to any of my little screw ups mostly affecting me. Maybe that typo means an A- instead of an A, but just for me. Maybe showing up 2 minutes to class makes me look like an ass, but no one else really cares. This means, however, after 16 years of school, I have no idea how to work with other people. Perhaps I should have been more gracious with everyone else for making these kind of mistakes since last August, and easier on myself with problems that everyone else has forgotten. Still, I am pretty sure I am the main culprit. Philosophy students should never work in administration.

I left my office in a crankster flurry, informing my friend Emilio that I must have put on my cranky tights today.*

*He actually asked if some tights make me more cranky than others. I miss Jose.