Text books

It is possible that I have changed my attitude towards my scholastic endeavors between my enrollment in post secondary education and now. Michael and I recently were reminiscing fondly about my foray into self-betterment - at the Langley campus of Kwantlen, no less - and how I was so nervous that I would get lost, and possibly pee my pants, we drove out to the campus on a weekend to peer into the windows in the hopes of being able to understand which room I was scheduled to attend on a weekly basis. Another time, I remember calling my mother for alternate directions to the Langely campus; panicking because heavy rains had blocked the road I normally traveled to get to school, and I was due to write a final exam. I arrived to class on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
Gradually, this terror and self-consciousness began to fall away. Once, when we had to move our clocks forward an hour I, being a rebel, did not. Driving down Granville (heading for the Richmond campus this time) I remember thinking the radio announcer was an imbecile, because he said it was 4:15, while it was clearly only 3:15. In short order I realized that my class had started 15 minutes ago. Nonplussed, I called my mother to regale her with my funny mishap of a story. I became so comfortable as to even yell at one of my teachers, causing all the young 'uns to turn and look at me in consternation, thinking "surely you cannot speak to someone so august and illuminated as our beloved professor" to which I reply: you can if he's a dingus.
And now, as I approach this semester with the enthusiasm of... well, of any 29 year old faced with a taxation course, I can't help but think of how I have grown from a chrysalis to an airy butterfly. I've honed my skills of procrastination and apathy. I've managed to enrage fellow OB team members. When someone comes to me with a complex accounting dilemma I can proudly say "I have no clue".
And it was with this lazy attitude of laissez-faire that I logged onto net, scant hours before my class was to begin, to find out a) what room I was in and b) what books I need to buy for said class. This nonchalance quickly turned to rage as I tallied the cost of the two tomes needed: $225!! Who can afford this? What if I were a student, squeezing in shifts at $8.50 an hour at Tim Horton's while trying to obtain my diploma (or, if I were more ambitious, my BBA)? This is preposterous! How can a book (except for the one I will eventually write) ever be worth this amount of money? Though I am, as my wonderful friend Paola says an "annoying perfect person can run marathons, work a short week and still pay your bills, and write hilarious blogs all while looking beautiful for the camera"... I forget my point. Oh right, I just wanted to point out that she thinks I look beautiful for the camera.
My stunning looks aside, there is something afoot here! Somewhere costs are being inflated, expensive corporate trips are being paid for, nefarious contracts signed. This abuse of the powerless and semi-illiterate must be stopped, dare I say: audited! If only I knew someone that had recently gotten an A+ in Auditing....