Professors piss me off

It's that time of year, boys and girls! The semester starts in one week and professors start pissing me off.

I hope that I remember, when I have my Ph.D., that the world does not bow to me. People without Ph.D's are not stupid. The world does not owe me an ass-kissing every day. Okay, okay, some people do....but not the world.

And I, Blogget Jones, pucker for no one's ass.

Well, not professionally speaking. There are some rather nice asses I can think of....hmmm.... But WAIT! That's not the point!! Back on task.

Like I have nothing else to do but cater to their whims. Especially when those whims involve their own stupid procrastination. What's the phrase? Stupidity on your part does not constitute an emergency on my part....or some such?

AND especially when those whims involve not following instructions, just because they somehow consider themselves above performing the procedures I have in place. I don't give a damn if they don't want to fill out a form, or bother to pick the right form, or even bother to put the right information in the form. "Can't you look that up for me?" NO! I have better things to do than run around looking for stuff they should know in the first place.

See, about a month before each semester ends, I send an email to everybody on campus. Everybody. I tell them to submit their online course requests by a certain deadline, so I have time to build the Web page for each course that is to be taught online next term. I direct them to the request form (also online), and they just have to pick whether it's a new course or one they are reusing. The form needs their class information. That's it.

My favorite so far is, "Why do I have to request anything? Can't you just KNOW that I want to teach that class online and create a new one for me? And put my stuff in it?"

Nope. You want it, bucky, then you ask for it. And why? Because their Ph.D. asses are so picky that I can't keep up with all of their special orders, semester to semester. Does Burger King remember your hold-the-pickles-hold-the-lettuce order each time you come in, bucky? No, they don't. Neither do I.

About half of the professors met the deadline. Those that didn't say things like, "I know I'm late with this. Sorry! Can you build it please? And I need it, like, now." So do the other 80 people requesting courses. And they were on time. So, get in line. "But it's really important." Yes, darling, they all are. Have a lolly and wait your turn.

So, I've finished all the existing requests. Now come the calls and emails of "I just know I made my request already, but my course isn't there. When are you doing this for me? Here's my course info, in case you forgot." No, I didn't forget. You never did the form. They get pissy when I tell them they must use the form. And this is exactly why I have a form - so I can search the database and say, "No, you didn't send it already." Have a lolly and I'll get to it when I'm ready, because my life has moved on to other problems on my desk. This is why I made a deadline.

Of course, then they call. "Uhm, this is Professor Procrastinator. I was just wondering when you'll get that course made. I really wanted to work on it today. I only have a week until classes start now, and I decided I'd work on it today." This just emphasizes to me that they keep their own hours and aren't in their actual offices unless they feel like it.

This term, I have the clever fella who thought he'd bypass me and get someone else to set up his course. He actually emailed the Director of Information Technology (he's not even my boss) to see if one of his boys could do it for him. He told this man, "I can't locate Blogget anywhere and I need to get this done."

That. Pissed. Me. Off.

As I read his message, which had been forwarded to me in an attempt to scold me for being MIA, I fumed. I was sitting not thirty feet from this man's office, and had been there all day. He hadn't bothered to call, write, or just get up off his spoiled ass and come to my door. Oh wait....he was probably working from home. Jackass. He doesn't get a lolly, and you'd better believe he's going to wait.

My Irish/Scottish/German/Viking blood began to simmer. Diplomatic. Must be diplomatic.

GRRRR!

Jackass. It's a small campus. How did he think I wouldn't find out? How did he think it wouldn't make me look bad?

"I've been in my office all day," I wrote back, copying everyone who might care. "Did I miss a message from you?" Then, I told him where to go -- to use the form.

He called me and offered to apologize with whiskey. Or chocolate. My pick. How about "I will not lie about Blogget," on the chalkboard 500 times.

Now, I get an email from a student. "I registered for an online class for the Spring semester, but I don't see it yet. What's wrong? Why can't I get to it? Is my registration messed up? Who can fix it? Help!"

Okay. Classes start January 22nd. It's January 16th. Do the math and wait for the class to actually start. Have a lolly.