Great White North: You're an Alumni! Now give us money Part 1

Yesterday I graduated.

The day was amazing and agonizing, quick and slow, frustrating and tasty. I didn't want to face the morning because I knew it would mean I was that much closer to that bloody stage with its floodlights and its audience. My only consolation was that afterwards I could have pie. Pumpkin pie. I'm serious when I say that I was more excited about pie than getting my degree.

So of course I had to get dressed up and on campus at least an hour before "The Ceremony". The quotes make it seem more like a human sacrifice don't they? (According to my parents some graduates looked like they were on their way to the guillotine). But we had to get up there two hours ahead of time to try and grab some extra tickets for friends.

But I needed my Regalia receipt to collect cap and gown. Wouldn't you know it but the darn thing isn't where I left it. This happens all the time with my car keys but there usually aren't dire consequences if I can't find them. I'm hunting through piles of paper wondering where that stupid pink slip of paper is. Then my mom asks what I'm doing and of course I have to tell her and she gives me that look. You know what I'm talking about. It's that look of disappointment you receive after falling and scraping your knee when you were specifically told your shoelaces were undone and ignored the advice to do them up. In the back of my mind, as we're flipping through books and rifling through receipts, I'm thinking about pie. That moist pumpkin taste, topped with homemade whip cream. The buttery flaky crust that melts in your mouth. Are you hungry yet? Does this help?

So I'm wracking my brain, trying not to have a panic attack about where I've put that receipt. Meanwhile the father and the almighty grandmother have been informed of my debacle. At this point I *facepalm* as I cannot conceive of where the darn thing could have gone. Logically it should be where I left it but Murphy's Law has decided to kick in on today of all days.

It's then that I remember I put out three bags worth of recycling yesterday. Do they pick up today? So I make a beeline for the recycling and yes, it's still there but now I have to dig through piles of shredded paper looking for a pink slip like a woman crazed. Long story short, I made a mess, cleaned up the mess but still no receipt. At this point I wanted to pull out my hair, weave it into the semblance of the receipt and present it at Admissions, desperately hoping they won't notice the difference.

This would only happen to me. You wouldn't believe how carefully I guarded my tickets and parking passes. There was no way I was going to let those vanish into thin air. So of course the cruel hand of fate would have to interfere with the other precious slip of paper that I needed.