There’s nothing exciting about having to wait to hear back from grad schools. I don’t know if it’s really supposed to be an exciting time and I’m just missing something, but this waiting has added an entirely new dimension of stress to my life. And, because the expected timeline of hearing back from these schools is approaching, my anxiety over it all has reached a new level; I’m perpetually checking my application statuses and my email and I’m losing hours of sleep. It’s taking over everything. It’s all I talk about and it’s nothing anybody wants to hear.

These days, to keep my mind off of it, I’ve been trying to keep some distance from myself and anything literary, which is proving difficult because:

1.) I’m “a writer” (yeah, I still hate saying that)

2.) I love to read

3.) Receiving rejection emails from literary magazines hasn’t been great for my confidence

4.) I work at a creative writing school

5.) Making things more difficult for myself than they have to be is kind of my thing

So I started an initiative this past week to start doing other things that don’t involve writing or reading to keep my head on straight.

I started running again which has resulted in some pretty epic ankle pain (I’ve sprained both of my ankles twice in the past and they never healed right), I started watching more TV (Silicon Valley is as good as they say it is), I started listening to some podcasts (I know I’m embarrassingly late on this but “This American Life” really is A+ stuff), and I plan on getting some more painting done in the near future.

If I do get accepted into any of the MFA programs I’ve applied to, I’ll be elated. Actually, elated isn’t even the right word.

Maybe jubilant is better.

Or rapturous.

Something with some more umph.

I truly have no clue whether or not I’ll get in anywhere. For real. It could really go either way. I’ve been trying to be positive about it—trying to put it out there in the universe that I will get in somewhere. But it’s dishonest because I’ll never feel like my writing is good enough. Even if I do get in, I still probably definitely won’t believe it. But I think crazier things have happened than a schlub like me getting what he wants.

So for now, I’ll keep running and keep watching TV and keep trying to get more sleep. That’s all that I can do.

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