documenting change: eleven.

gettin' schooled.

I have not been anxious or preoccupied by schools one bit. Until now. On Friday I heard back from one school that I’ve been accepted. I got the call in the evening (a voicemail), and I felt both stunned and also a strange kind of out-of-body excitement.

Saturday, I became anxious. When before I’d put my applications in the back of my mind, suddenly I was wondering all day, when will I hear from the others?

In the afternoon, I checked my mail and there was a letter from a second school. A rejection. Hearing from this school illuminated for me with total clarity which ones I want to hear a “yes” from and which ones I’d rather not go to. I wasn’t disappointed at all that this school had not accepted me. Deep down, I’d applied to that school only for practical reasons, but not because I felt excited about the program.

I’m now preoccupied with when I’ll hear from the other five schools. As if on a road trip, “Are we there, yet?” is playing on repeat in my head. Except it’s, “When will I hear? When will they contact me?”

Phone calls are good – because I think all of the schools told me they call if it’s a yes. Letters are bad – because they mail your rejections. I’m hoping my phone rings exactly five times. But I’ll be happy if it only rings three or four times.

I won’t say for now who accepted me and who rejected me. I don’t want to jinx myself. But I’ll say I’m pleased about the acceptance.

I don’t know about money yet. The school said they have not yet made decisions on assistantships, etc.

The waiting game continues.