Son. Of. A. Bitch.

The past seven weeks, there's been one big thing I've had to take care of: my student visa. To get it, I need my passport, proof of enrollment, proof of residency, and documentation that I can pay for it all. It was this last part I was waiting on, then I could go to the embassy in Chicago, pick up my visa, spend the night at Evan's drinking, come home and spend one last weekend in Indy. That's out the window now.

See, after spending all week trying to track down my loan forms with Sallie Mae, it turns out what I needed was the letter from the school saying I was approved, and that I got last week. So I make plans to go up to Chicago Friday morning, which someone leaked to the Fates and the Fates said "Nay." See, two things happened this morning. One: I woke up at 2 a.m. with my left ear about to rip itself apart. An ear infection and me three days from an international flight. Two: Friday is 100% booked at the British Embassy, so even if I was healthy enough to drive five hours, they wouldn't let me in. So, yeah, no visa for me. I'll have to get a temporary one when I land and get the official one later, a strategy highly unrecommended by the school, but what else am I going to do? WHAT?!?!?!?

Marsha laughed hysterically at this. It was funny.