I haven't talked about this publicly before because I didn't want to appear to be a big goof (bigger than I am) if something bad happened.
By way of explanation, I applied for the graduate program (Masters in English Literature) in November.
Due date = November 15.
I turned everything in....November 15.
Leave it to me to wait until the deadline to get my application materials in.
Timely as ever, right.
I walked away from the building towards home thinking, "Why shouldn't they accept me?" followed quickly by the fear, "Why would they accept me?"
These were the thoughts that accompanied me for over a month. Fortunately I was too busy completing my paper for my Young Adult Literature class and getting ready for Christmas and dragging DN2 to swimming to worry about it every minute.
I only thought about it every other minute.
(No Jean, I was not being Lazee.)
And of course I had people at work who would ask questions.
"Have you heard yet?"
"Noooo," is what I would have to reply.
And I discarded any ideas that anyone, including me, should call to find out the status.
After all I really wanted to get accepted based upon my own abilities and not because of connections.
Then on December 9th I turned in my 15+ page paper for class and I waited on a grade for that too.
Two questions being asked of me by concerned folks, and I gave "no" answers to both. (To both questions, not both concerned folks; honestly, I do have more than one friend.)
Finally on Friday the 21st I looked in the system and saw that a decision had been made regarding my application.
But that was all it said.
Egads, what was the decision?!?!
Was I really going to have to wait until something came in the mail? And when would that be? We had just shut down for 2 weeks!
No other information was available - and trust me I looked everywhere I could.
Fortunately for my blood pressure (which is always on the low side anyway) there was an envelope in the mail on the following day.
It was an acceptance letter!!
And also on that same day I found out that I had received an A in my class.
What pain and torture I had to endure in order to receive such blissful news.
I felt excited and relieved and totally awesome all at the same time.
Huge sigh of relief.
Then as I looked forward to signing up for a class for the spring semester I began to worry.
I don't know this professor.
What if she doesn't like me?
There's no rating for her on www.ratemyprofessors.com (which is always subjective anyway), but even still I have no way of knowing what she is really like.
Yikes, now I have to worry about whether I will do well enough to stay in the program or think about how I just might fail in a very dramatic fashion.
Here we go again.