(Nearly) Real Effing Emails

Student 1: I need you to send me my PIN number so I can register. I also need advising from you right away. If you can’t meet me, just email me my PIN number. I already know what I want to take. If you need to see me, anytime Tuesday through Thursday works for me. But you need to let me know as soon as you can.

(Translation: I didn’t register during the eons-long registration period because I’m a lazy fuck. Now I want you to cater to my whims during finals.)

Me: The advising period does not run through finals week. I do not have office hours during finals week. In addition, I never give out PIN numbers to any of my advisees without looking over their schedules to make sure they are planning correctly and making progress toward their degree.

(Translation: Fuck you.)

Student 1: I looked for you during the school year a lot but never found you.

(Translation: I’m lying. I never looked for you.)

For some reason we can never meet up because of our schedules.

(Translation: I’m in your building a lot, but you didn’t see me and demand to advise me, so I never got advised.)

Last semester I tried to call you or even thought about asking you to call me, but I was never able to get through to you then either. So I've been stopping by your office all the time and I could never find you.

(Translation: In truth I never called or tried to email you, on account of I’m lazy and stupid.)

Me: If you could not contact me in person, you could have called the department and left a message for me. Or during one of your many visits to my empty office, you could have left a note on my door. Or slid one under it. And of course you obviously know my email address, or you would not have sent me your first message demanding immediate advising.

(Translation: Listen, sugartits, do you think I’m a fucking moron?)

Student 1: I probably should've figured that out, but I didn’t know your email until earlier today. But I do need to meet with you. Wednesday or Thursday would be best.

(Translation: I’m hopelessly selfish and screwed up. Deal with it.)

Me: If you didn’t know my email address, the administrative assistant in the office you pass every day on your way to attend class would have helped you, or you could have accessed it from the department’s web page. Oh, and I understand that Wednesday or Thursday would be better for you. Unfortunately I cannot meet with you on Wednesday or Thursday. Please be at my office on Friday at 7:30 a.m. Sharp.

(Translation: Fuck you.)

Student 2: I wanted to let you know that I put hours and hours into my take-home final, but my computer crashed yesterday. I had to start from scratch. I just couldn't make it as good as I wanted to, since I lost all that work.

(Translation: I’m lying about the computer crashing thing, but I want you to feel sorry for me even though I’ve been slacking off all semester.)

When will we know our grades?

(Translation: Drop what you’re doing, grade my final, figure my final grade, and reply to this email within 20 minutes.)

Me: You’ve had the final for a week—and you waited until the last minute to try to do it? And how did you lose your work when your computer crashed? I didn’t even know that was possible anymore.

(Translation: You’re lying.)

Student 2: I know but I had all this other stuff I had to do and I hit the wrong button or something and hours of work was gone.

(Translation: I’m lying. My computer didn’t crash. I was just hoping you’d think it did so that you’d grade my final easier.)

When will we know our grades?

(Translation: Your 20 minutes was up 12 hours ago.)

Me: That’s odd. I save the new file immediately and even during a power outage, with automatic save, I haven’t ever lost much.

Translation: (You’re lying.)

As for final grades, I never turn in final grades until I can turn all the grades for the entire class in at once, and several of your peers have not turned in their finals yet. They can turn in their finals until Friday, though they will be docked a letter grade for each day their final is late. Grades are due to the registrar by Monday at 9 a.m.

(Translation: I’ve already figured out that you’re getting a D, but I don’t feel like dealing with you right now. You’ve been a lying, whining pain in the ass all semester, and you were a pain in the ass the last time you took this course. In fact, I’m going to wait until Monday at 8:59 to post your grade, just to piss you off. You’ve told me eleventy one times you are supposed to graduate, as of telling me that would somehow pressure me into giving you a grade you don’t deserve, but you should have thought of that when you were blowing off fully half of the assignments. You may walk at commencement but you’re not technically going to graduate because you need a C in this class to do that, which you’ve failed to accomplish for the second time now. But suit up and hotfoot it across that stage, Miss Teacher Ed. I will be watching you and smiling a secret smile, because until you get through me, Sunshine, you ain’t goin’ nowhere.)