An Affair to Forget

So Financial Aid Death Match, Round 2 commenced today. I have gotten more Zen about the whole process as in, "Die, motherfucker, DIE!"

Suffice it to say I called to figure out what the hell they were talking about in the first place and a) never figured it out, somehow and b) spent half an hour getting screamed at and insulted.

So then I called my loan consolidation company, whose employees were much nicer, but became politely puzzled when I tried to explain to them that the financial aid office was so horrific I couldn't manage to get a) the name of the loan b) the amount of the loan in question.

Any way, the whole conversation was right out of an absurdist play. I kept expecting some angry Julia Child clone to burst into the kitchen with a burnt omelette sounding like the Swedish Chef, followed by dubbed Iron Chef commentary, with the token clueless actress judge saying, 'Hai. This sauce looks really modern, doesn't it?"