aka The Story of the Broken Charger
It all can be traced back to the butterfly.
No, it really can’t. I’m going to pin the ultimate blame on financial aid. That’s where this story really starts. Financial aid broke my camera charger.
So, over my past couple of years at university, I have accumulated debt. For those of you who don’t know how American financial aid works, once I receive my diploma I must start repaying my debts after 6 months of losing my ‘student’ status. I tried to beat the system by not receiving my diploma and maintaining my student status.
Maintaining student status requires a ‘student’ to take 6 credits. I decided to take African History 315 and Intro to Occupational Therapy. Choices were limited. My Intro to Occupational Therapy became more of a creative writing course. I imagined interviews and frequently wrote about my imaginary class of handicapped children. While writing one of my many papers I got hungry.
I went to the kitchen and whipped out some rice cakes, layered some tomato slices on top and some chèvre cheese on top of that. Once it was done cooking, I decided to eat it. Logical.
Tomatoes are slippery little buggers and one slipped from the rice cake, with cheese on top, right onto my pants. I immediately went to wash my pants in my sink because nobody wants to smell like goat cheese. I hung my pants on the radiator because nothing dries in Nantes.
My pants hung there dripping wet while I wrote 5 more papers…
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| For my British friends reading this: When I say pants, I mean trousers. |
While I went to Clisson with my new French grandmother…
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| Clisson |
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| Cote Sauvage, Noirmoutier |
I get back from my exciting excursions and want to charge my camera. My camera charger had been sitting under the radiator. Water was dripping out of it when I picked it up and it no longer works. Thanks, financial aid.
