I believe I’ll be driving to Wilmore, Kentucky tomorrow to visit my Alma matre, Asbury Theological Seminary.
It isn’t really a pleasure trip, as much as a errand. I know, a long drive for a check on my to-do list. But this trip is necessary. I have to pick up my transcript. I’m submitting an application for a job (don’t worry, anyone reading this at work already knows I’ve applied).
And, in all honesty, it is for a job I’m already doing. The new job is doing the old job for a new boss, even though the new boss is the old boss that doesn’t pay my salary. Get it? Got it? Good.
Because Asbury is not only in a different state but a different decade, they are unable to process transcript request without an actual signature. The problem is that I was unable to speak with anyone directly for 4 days. I believe the party-line telephone system installed in Wilmore may be to blame. When I did finally get through, I was informed that I could only mail my request and they would process it immediately. No matter how many times I explained my situation, they failed to understand that my request, even if shipped over night, would not return the necessary document to me in time for its submission on Monday. They seemed to feel bad about this and offered the only other logical solution to a problem in the electronic age: Drive 8 hours, down and back, sign a document and get my transcript.
So I’m driving to Wimore. Look for me. I’m the northerner wearing clothes from the 21st century.
