I know where I’ll be next year–finally; the last grad school let me know, in an email of all things, that there were many qualified applicants and that I was not one of them.
It is as it was expected. They were the best program I applied to; and while I wouldn’t have applied if I didn’t want to go there, I’m not that broken up about it. Considering the amount of time–what…weeks? feels longer–between the acceptance and final rejection I considered the possible scenarios many times and came to the conclusion that if I were accepted to the last school, and if the money were equal, I would probably pick the first school.
I don’t know, though, if this planning was what one not emotionally involved would have done. I fear that this was a love the one you’re with situation where I, more or less, talking myself into loving the…well, the one I’m with. I don’t think it is actually like this: my reasoning was reasonable enough to the ones I told. Unfortunately, though, all that means is that I can think of good reasons to support a decision made even if the reasons aren’t the actual reasons.
But all that aside, I’m quite excited. Sometimes I think the last three years have been mostly wasted just dicking around and that the Rest of My Life can now start. Start in five months, that is.
No, I think–all things considered–that all this will work out. I know I can be happy most everywhere not in Idaho so I’m not worried about the actual place except the ungodly summers. The program itself, as it looks to me right now, appears to come out ahead when weighing the pros and cons even if it doesn’t have the highs some others have.
Still, I would have liked to get in the other places, particularly this last one, if only for ego reasons.