Just send the goddamned fax already, Phnee

Okay, yeah, so I'm procrastinating. Procrastinating a lot, in fact, on sending out this fax to register for the dispatcher course.

Partly it's because I'm not sure I have the money. But that's not really what's stopping me.

Mostly it's sheer, unadulterated terror. I have a job. An unstable, boring, repetitive, and unrewarding job, but a job. One I know I can do. I have no such certainties about dispatching. Part of me is convinced this is too good to be true. How could I possibly ever learn to do emergency dispatch during two courses that last two weekends each? It seems unrealistic.

The rational bit of my brain is pointing out that, even if four weekends isn't enough, it'll still be a start. The irrational bit of my brain is running around in circles, alternately flapping its arms and wringing its hands.

If I put this off long enough, there won't be any room left to register. I have to pull out my credentials (these people insist that I prove I finished high school, imagine that!) and fax those along with my registration form. Ironically enough, I don't have my high school diploma anymore. No idea where it went. I do have my diploma from McGill, though, so that should do just as well, hopefully. I mean, if I went to university, it follows that I finished high school, right?

I think my McGill diploma is in a box at my parents' place. So that means going there and trying to dig it out of wherever it's stored. Meep.


There is no really good reason for me not to do any of this. Finding the diploma wouldn't take that long. Sending the fax would take even less time. Gah.

Of course, that would make it real.


...


Am I allowed to go hide in a corner until this all goes away?


...


I thought not.

Heh. Oops.

So a closer look at the website reveals that they don't actually take faxed registration forms. It has to be done by mail.

So, I've filled out a clean form, and I'm going to write a nice cover letter begging them to let me join up. ("Jine up! Jine up! Line up and jine the cavalry!" Ahem.) Then I'm going to swing by the parental units' place this evening before going to my dance class, grab a copy of my degree (yes, we have spare photocopies of everything), shove that and a check in the envelope which I've just prepared, dump the whole thing in a mailbox and not think about it anymore.

:::ETA:::

Holy shit, but my flakedom knows no bounds! Either they've changed the dates on me (entirely possible), or else I massively misread the website (also entirely possible). There are two classes being given for emergency dispatch, but they're both in February.

I really, really hope there's still room...

*runs off to send in application form*