The Behemoth Rears its Ugly Head

It was bound to happen, but somewhere in the back of my mind I was holding out hope that the University of Toronto would, in this instance, put the student first. Instead, when I arrived at the Athletics Centre and attempted to swipe my student card to gain entry the overzealous lifer behind the counter became all agitated and directed me (commanded is the better word in fact) to, "Go speak to someone at the Office! The computer shows that you are not a member! You are NOT a member!!!"

I felt like replying, "Lay off the amphetamines, buddy!", but didn't and went to the Office to discover that, indeed, I was no longer considered a student even though I'd paid Athletic Centre fees up until the end of this semester as part of my tuition.

With nothing else to do, and no backpack to carry the stuff I still have stored in a locker for which I also paid (this time as a separate fee) until the end of the semester, I decided to call on the School of Graduate Studies to see if there was any recourse available that may allow me to continue swimming until May. Yet again I was faced with an automaton whose sole responsibility seems to be to regurgitate the policies of mother ship UofT, which she did very well by the way, and for which she must be commended. (This institution never ceases to amaze in its ability to produce cookie cutter human byproducts in an endless stream of potential staffers as most of their employees on the administrative side seem to be former students who, for some strange reasons, find it appealing to remain indentured servants of UofT.)

Anyway, I have to go back at some point and run the gauntlet of robots stationed strategically at the entry to the gym in order to get my swimming stuff out of that locker, or decide to pay an extra fee and continue to swim a couple of times per week to support my running. I think the swimming is key for me as it provides for great cardio workouts without any impact to my wonky legs, but I am loath to pay any more money to this University for the very thought instantly brings on the bitter taste of bile. Of course, should I choose to keep my money out of their coffers I will then have to find another way to cross train, preferably during the day on my lunch break as this has been most convenient and leaves my evenings open to spend with the boys.

And on a lighter note, how much do you think this fool likes his candy?