Letter. Sex. Articles.

Letter

No Letter again today. Saturday will officially be nine weeks since the audition. Nine Weeks. At the audition we were told it would be three to four weeks before we found out anything. Three weeks went by. Then four. Then five. On the sixth week, all of the people who auditioned in Columbia received letters that said (in more politically correct terms, of course) "We thought you were alright. We're not sure if we want you yet or not. We're not sure if we want anyone yet or not. We don't really know what we want, and we are sorry that it is taking us awhile to decide- but "rest assured" you are still being considered, and we will be in touch very soon."

It has been three weeks since that "please be patient" letter arrived in my mailbox.

My patience is officially gone. I want to know yesterday. On Monday the people who auditioned for Academy (a two week summer program) received their acceptance/rejection letters. This makes no sense to me. Why in the world would the Academy auditioners who are hypothetically spending two weeks in the summer at the school receive notice of their acceptance before the Residential auditioners who are hypothetically spending the next two YEARS at the school? Caroline, a girl who attended Academy Program last year with Ms.Hepburn and I and also auditioned for Residential, called the school to inquire about our acceptance/rejection letters and was told by an ignorant woman in the main office that the letters were mailed on Monday. This, of course, leading the slew of us on pins and needles to believe that the letter would arrive today at the latest.

No letter again today. I cried because all I care about is getting an envelope and the hypothetical contents of this envelope are stressing me out. This waiting is not good for my health. It increases my already-increased levels of anxiety. It encourages lack of focus because all I can think about is whether or not the key of my future is sitting in my mailbox. It encourages lack of already-lacking sleep because I toss and turn all night wondering if it will come the next day. My hair is falling out. I'm pretty sure I'm getting fatter even though I haven't been on a scale all week. My future basically depends on what this letter says. This waiting is not good for my health.

So today, I call the Governor's School for the Arts and Humanities myself and ask to speak to the President of the school, Anna King. Ms. King answers her phone and

Anna King: Hello?
Me: Ms. King?
Her: Can I help you?
Me: Is this Anna King?
Her: Yes. Hello? Can I help you?
Me: Yes. I'm trying to find out if the letters for the Residential program have been mailed out yet.
Her: Oh. No. We'll probably mail them out first thing tomorrow morning.

Probably mail them out first thing tomorrow morning, meaning that I could probably hear on Friday or Saturday.

Probably. It's not like I'm waiting or anything.

Opinions of The School's organizational skills are lowering substantially with each passing day.
I need to get in to this school. If I've waited all of this time, and stressed out for nine weeks only to find out that I haven't made it in- I may very well just end my life.

I may very well just do that.

I'll get to the Sex and Articles later.

The face now loaded with nerves...

love, jessieh