Kill.

Hate. Oh, SO much hate.

Part I:

Me to Mr. Helpful, last week [via e-mail]: "I'd like to come up the first or second week in February. How long does this usually take? What would be convenient for you? I'm supposed to have a thesis draft in by March 19th, so my timeline is rather short."

Mr. Not-So-Damned-Helpful to me, last week: [radio silence]

Part II:

Me to Mrs. Zoo, this morning: "I'm REALLY running out of time, so would you mind giving Mr. Helpful a PHONE CALL for me? I'm not getting any response from him at all on e-mail."

Mrs. Zoo to me: "The problem is, I don't know when you want to go up there. I don't have enough information to intercede on your behalf. You need to give him a time."

Me: "I DID give him a time. I don't know how long I need in the lab to run the tests, though. It's one of the things I asked."

Mrs. Zoo: "He's probably put off by your approach. Nobody's ever asked him that."

Me: "....."

Mrs. Zoo: "All right, I'll e-mail him. What's his e-mail address?"

Me: "....."


I was thinking, more like, PHONE CALL. That number that SHE HAS for that person that SHE KNOWS, whom SHE have also e-mailed ON HER OWN many many times, presumably without asking me to forward her an e-mail address she gave to me in the first place.

My major professor is starting to talk about graduating at the end of the summer instead of at the beginning. I am livid, and have to be sociable to my students in an our.

Kill. Kill. Kill.