I’m currently sorting out grad school options for fall. I sent my applications off last month, but I didn’t write about it because, first, if I didn’t get in anywhere, I didn’t want anyone to ask me how it was going. Also because after polishing writing samples and sending requests for sealed transcripts and requests for references and filling in FAFSA forms, I was so bloody sick of the whole thing that grad schools are the last thing I wanted to talk about.
I even did an application for a backup school in case I don’t get into either of my dream programs, or if I get in but don’t get enough funding to attend. It’s hard to accept that even after all the work I have done to prepare, and even though I think I’m the perfect applicant, I might not get in. Or I might not be able to start immediately, I might have to postpone school for a semester of working and saving more. It’s hard to establish a backup plan without getting depressed, or getting overwhelmed with the time and money I already sunk into this, or looking at the sheer amount of paperwork for one application, let alone three, or giving up on a masters completely and going to do something entirely different, or just hoping for the best and take no practical steps in case of a setback.
I might sometimes make fun of Capt. Action Plan, my process-oriented husband, when he exhibits some of his many Vulcan characteristics. Some of the finer points of project management make me fall asleep, but I would seriously never have attempted something with so much preparation and planning, and so many freaking steps before I met Harold.