The waiting game…

I’ve never been a patient person.  Time drags at me like sandpaper over the skin, and I want to get up and push and push until things start moving, even if they move in the wrong direction.  I don’t like to wait.  I don’t like to not know what comes next.

And so, the enforced waiting for responses from PhD programs makes me crazy.

I love and am happy for my friends who are getting responses, and I wonder what’s wrong that I’m not.

I agonize over the rejections I’ve already gotten, but at least I know for those schools.  Two no votes, five unknowns.  Five potentials.  Five schools in Schrodinger’s box.  Am I alive, or dead?  No, I’m waiting.

Some friends have acceptances, and I am so very pleased for them.  Some have interviews, and I am happy and nervous on their behalf.  I have…this low rolling pit of anxiety, making me want to push and push and step on the metaphorical gas with all my might.

Hard to believe that in a few months, this part will all be over.  I won’t wish the time away.  But I really hate waiting.

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