I’ve woken up so many times feeling this way, like something’s wrong but I can’t put my finger on it, so I can’t fix it, so I can’t escape it. This must be the “silent desperation” Thoreau wrote about. I’ve pinned it on not applying to grad school all this time, so we’ll see if that changes.
Yesterday, I sent in my application to grad school. I didn’t tell anyone until later that night, when it occurred to me that it was probably worth mentioning to Boyfriend, who was more excited than I was. It’s strange; I’ve finally applied to grad school, and I feel nothing. I guess it’s just been a long time coming. I’ll be (way) more excited if I’m accepted.