It has been almost a week since my first/last post. And a quite overwhelming week it was.
On last Thursday I almost had a breakdown concerning my Final Project, better to say my mother. I was supposed to bring it in on Friday, so I intended to take it to a well known copy-place to have it bound, but my darling lovely mother decided that she wouldn't give a 100 kuna's (roughly 10£) and that she would take my work to her job. There her friend would bound it. I made it perfectly clear that the covers had to be hard, and that the front page had to be the same as the cover, and that after the front page she had to insert my final assignment - a piece of paper we got when we chose our themes for the work and which had a description of the task and a signature of my mentor. The original had to be bound with the papers.
Somewhere around nine a.m. she phoned me and said: "We bound it, sure, but you know, this looks kind a funny to me, you said that the cover had to be exactly the same as the front page, well, this one has no cover, it has a plastic sheet just to keep the front page from being the first". Needles to say I went berserk. The two of them didn't know what exactly the hard covers were, so I told them to take out my assignment paper, print out another copy of my work and have it properly bound. So they extracted my assignment (thank God it was still whole and clean) and gave it with another copy of my papers to some friend of their friend (0r whatever) who bound it the way it had to be bound. In the meantime noone had thought of phoning me back, so I spent roughly three and half hours shaking on my bed, trying to not be sick from worry, and praying that after weeks of not sleeping and hard working on that project (beside my regular classes) I would not be stopped by some foolish women. Were I to not submit my work on time (or worse, to destroy my assignment paper), I would have to take on another task in the next semester, and thus had to wait half a year longer to get my degree. And beside what disastrous effect it would have on me, my mother would never ever admit that it was her doing, and probably would refuse to talk to me like she did last time I failed at my classes. And worst of all : She found it really really funny that I worried so much about it. I was so angry at her. I wanted to scream at her, to make her afraid as I was, to make her see, to make her feel the bloody pain I endured about it, but I don't think I could ever make her understand what it means to me.
Now I know - next time I'll not make the same mistake of trusting my Mother with something so important.
On last Thursday I almost had a breakdown concerning my Final Project, better to say my mother. I was supposed to bring it in on Friday, so I intended to take it to a well known copy-place to have it bound, but my darling lovely mother decided that she wouldn't give a 100 kuna's (roughly 10£) and that she would take my work to her job. There her friend would bound it. I made it perfectly clear that the covers had to be hard, and that the front page had to be the same as the cover, and that after the front page she had to insert my final assignment - a piece of paper we got when we chose our themes for the work and which had a description of the task and a signature of my mentor. The original had to be bound with the papers.
Somewhere around nine a.m. she phoned me and said: "We bound it, sure, but you know, this looks kind a funny to me, you said that the cover had to be exactly the same as the front page, well, this one has no cover, it has a plastic sheet just to keep the front page from being the first". Needles to say I went berserk. The two of them didn't know what exactly the hard covers were, so I told them to take out my assignment paper, print out another copy of my work and have it properly bound. So they extracted my assignment (thank God it was still whole and clean) and gave it with another copy of my papers to some friend of their friend (0r whatever) who bound it the way it had to be bound. In the meantime noone had thought of phoning me back, so I spent roughly three and half hours shaking on my bed, trying to not be sick from worry, and praying that after weeks of not sleeping and hard working on that project (beside my regular classes) I would not be stopped by some foolish women. Were I to not submit my work on time (or worse, to destroy my assignment paper), I would have to take on another task in the next semester, and thus had to wait half a year longer to get my degree. And beside what disastrous effect it would have on me, my mother would never ever admit that it was her doing, and probably would refuse to talk to me like she did last time I failed at my classes. And worst of all : She found it really really funny that I worried so much about it. I was so angry at her. I wanted to scream at her, to make her afraid as I was, to make her see, to make her feel the bloody pain I endured about it, but I don't think I could ever make her understand what it means to me.
Now I know - next time I'll not make the same mistake of trusting my Mother with something so important.
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