So you didn’t get into that masters program

So you’ve been sitting in an international airport for three hours, now waiting on a flight that’s been delayed by an hour.

So you can’t watch the Homeland first season finale because Amazon won’t allow it to play on your U.S. device in a foreign country.

So you checked your email and noticed a couple messages in the spam folder — including something called “Graduate Admissions Decision.”

So you clicked on it with bated breathe and saw only four short paragraphs, wishing you luck in your future endeavors.

So it’s the day after your birthday. It’s fine; you’re not bitter.

In all honesty, this is the decision I was expecting, though it’s, of course, not the one I wanted or the one I allowed myself to believe might become a reality. I tried my best to remain pessimistic, so that when decision day came — not that I wanted the news to be delivered via a message mistakenly marked as spam — I would either be pleasant surprised or simply mellow. I thought it best that I be able to simply shrug it off.

I’m disappointed, that’s for damn sure. And I’m not (super) sad, but it’s definitely a downer. I did one application, more or less on a whim, and though I knew some aspects weren’t quite up to snuff, I had hope that the stronger aspects of my app might convince them to take a chance on me. I’m realizing now that I was underprepared and that I can’t put the pressure on admissions people to see what I might be able to do — I need to do it.

So I’m sitting here at the airport, waiting for this damn plane, and I’m going to allow myself to sulk a little bit and then I’m going to start prepping to apply again.


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