Survival is more of a challenge sometimes than its 8 letters would indicate. Something that hard should be a book, or a collection of books...like the unabridged encyclopedia or something. It shouldn't be 8 letters.At the beginning of this week I got a rejection from the only graduate school I applied to. I was sad and depressed because I thought I'd get in. The next day I decided to call and talk with the the department and figure out what went wrong. He said "Oh my, it seems we have the wrong GRE score for you. I'll personally look over this. Your application is quite strong." I called my parents and told them the great news: "I'm not failing at life!"...I spoke too soon.
Three hours later I got a call from the guy telling me he'd been looking at the wrong column on the spreadsheet. I had been denied. So, rejecting me once wasn't enough, they had to reject me then get my hopes up and reject me again for good measure. Why me? Not sure.
I spent every waking moment of Thursday (while not at work or in class) feverishly studying for a difficult exam, taking the exam, then staying up until 1:30 writing a paper. By the end of Thursday I had all the research done and had written the introduction. Today I skipped all my classes and called in to work so I could finish my paper by the 5:00 deadline. It was like a movie with chariots of fire as the theme: with mere minutes to spare I finish my citations and save the paper to my desktop. This is where the inspiring music stops.
Cue the jarring theme from sixth sense - my computer malfunctions and my paper is no more. I spend the next two hours with geek friends trying to recover it. I even downloaded a program. Zero results. All but the introduction to my gigantic paper was now gone. Eight hours of my life, previously organized as words on a page, are now a pop-up that states "document can't be found".
These are the moments where something simple could easily push me over to the dark side, like the mexican guy at Wendy's getting my order wrong. I mean it, I'm this close *fingers held up to indicate an inch* to going Darth Vader all over somebody.
I'm going to go for a jog, eat something delicious and take a long hot bath. It seems like a better alternative to wearing that black suit.