coming to grips

I woke up this morning to a call from DB with the good news! Stanford had admitted me, and according to the looks of the online package tracking system, the admit binder got delivered this morning, too.

I was quite anxious all day yesterday, and couldn't get any work done from home. So I sat and refreshed the BW forums and called myself to make sure the phone was working. Talked with my manager (only actual work done). And heard news of The Call from all over the world. In a somewhat twisted way, it felt a bit like when they track Santa Claus on the news all day on Christmas Eve. My general happiness for everyone else's good news was balanced only by a growing despair that I might not get a call. And I became more anxious and obsessive than I've been in a long while. It was worse than waiting for The Call on March 17 and tracking Evanston's decision process prior to that on the BW forums. Bad enough that my eyes were bloodshot and I was pretty unbearable to be around. Imagine a ham actor, let's use William Shatner as an example, repeating Hamlet's famous soliloquoy from Act 3, Scene 1. "To be, or not to be..." over and over and over again. Then try to be my husband, in the office trying to do a job search of his own. That's when those vows we took come in most handy.

Then at some rather late point in the day, I got a call from a second year student at Kellogg, congratulating me and offering herself as a resource. And I remembered that I was already truly fortunate and wonderful schools that are a fantastic fit for me had already checked in with their decisions. Wasn't the point, after all, to go to a fantastic school and gather resources that will help me impact the world in a meaningful way? Further inspection revealed that my anxiety was not so much about the decision itself, but about the need for the validation of being accepted.

I hadn't realized that I had gradually become this ugly and petty part of myself. The part that keeps score. The part that wanted my dad to have something to brag about. The part that was rejected from graduate school 6 years ago that now wanted to see the score settled with the University. How ridiculous and small.

So, after that, I closed the BW forum and went about cooking dinner, for once (I had been existing on Henry Weinhard's black cherry creme soda and root beer, sour gummy worms, and s'mores with marshmallows toasted over my electric stovetop), and finally dismantled the tower of dishes in the sink. And I let the dam* thing go. It's a wonderful feeling to let yourself do something dam* else than what you're used to.

This morning, when I called my dad to share the new good news with him, in reply to my comment that my mom wanted me to call him directly so that he would have something to brag about, he chuckled a bit, and said, "I've been bragging all along."

Stanford said YES!

Short report, I got the call this morning!

primal scream

Whatever happened to the simpler days of undergrad, when sometime around finals week, at the stroke of midnight, we opened our dorm windows or stopped on our way to wherever and screamed at the top of our lungs to relieve stress? Granted, this is not finals week, but for some reason, I do feel like screaming at the top of my lungs. Just for 20 seconds or so.

It's not so much stress as good old-fashioned anxiety. Maybe this is why some people apply to one school only. Multiple decision waiting go-rounds is definitely not fun.

end of the road soon comin'

It's almost that time--that time being when all the decisions are in and there is just the hard task of making a decision and then making it happen.

I may have mentioned that I've had trouble being productive at work. I guess I have been running so long that I don't know how to go a more measured pace, and then I just stop. But I am again determined to use the technique I learned in Veritas for tackling reading comprehension. Stop, look away for a little while, then begin again with sharper focus. This can be done!

I've been working through the school housing options so far. Haas is just a BART ride away and a 10 minute walk up the hill, so no question marks there. I have heard from current students that it's advisable to get a campus area aparment for the first semester, which I might do. My emphasis, though, has been on the big question mark: investigating the housing options in Evanston. And something called a co-op...? This is definitely new to me, but it seems like it's the popular thing to do up there for apartment living. I can't stand the thought of renting and giving my money away with no equity/equity-equivalent/tax savings. But it does seem fairly complicated. The good news is that we can crash at my folks' place in Chicagoland for a while if the timing doesn't work out as planned.

In loosely related news, I finally made it to the gym the other day. It's amazing how easy it is to get my mind off of school when I'm on the crosstrainer, people watching, looking at the stories on TV, all while reading a travel magazine. My problem this whole time has been not having enough things to multitask about to keep business school thoughts at bay!

Haas said YES!

Got a call from Pete Johnson! Heard little of what he said, but tried to paid attention even after he said he had GOOD news.

I had a similar experience to what I saw a few others post: he told me a bit about a couple of my positive candidacy points: for example, they liked my enthusiasm and I had a good interview.

Can't believe Haas let me in.

It's weird. When I got the first news, I heard a mixture of Rakim's "Guess Who's Back" and Mark Morrison's "Return of the Mack." Now, I can't keep a line from Bobby McFerrin's song "Simple Pleasures" out of my head:

I'm so happy
I'm a happy man
Yes I am
Yes I am

Tick Tock

So I'm in the last few hours before the Haas decision is published. It's supposed to come out on Friday, the 18th, but I think that radio silence the day before will give me an early clue. Knowing that only 70% of us from Super Saturday will receive an admit is just a tiny bit nerve-wracking. It means that of the 10 of us sitting at a lunch table, three chairs will become empty.

Perhaps I should make myself a button tomorrow that says "Admit me, I'm Irish." Since my great grandparents were Irish, it would be kind of appropriate.

Kellogg said YES!

I still can barely believe it. Kellogg said yes!