Dear Tense and Worried People,
(I kid you not; that's how it started.)
Dear Tense and Worried People,
Stop calling us!!!!!!!We've made no decisions! Leave us alone or we'll never have a moment of peace in which to make our decisions!
But I'm just paraphrasing here.
It was really a very polite letter explaining that you should not call them to ask if your application is "complete" when really what you want to squeeze out of whomever is unfortunate enough to answer the phone is whether or not they've sent out acceptances.
The lovely Judy Mitchell is even so kind as to completely skip over the fact that people are using such transparent pretenses for calling. And - like any woman skilled in the social dance we call manners - she states simply that any applicant with an incomplete file will be contacted. They won't reject you for a piece of paper gone missing; they'll ask you to replace it.
So you take a big sigh of relief. See? They're not the big bad machine! They'll even let you complete your file if you're a schmuck and forgot the department form.
(Ahem. Yes me, and, no, not for this school.)
This means you can stop having that reoccurring dream where you're the chick in the bad 80s work-out clothes reliving the Apple-Macintosh 1984 commercial; except that instead of throwing the hammer into Big Blue you're attacking the institutions withholding your MFA acceptance.
And not having that dream is good, because you really want to stop analyzing the fact that you're subconsciously attempting to destroy higher education. And the fact that you've made "The Man" an institution whose goal is supposed to be furthering creativity and thinking outside the box.
* In order to prevent concerned comments from my more regular readers who think I really am having the above dream, I will restate that all I want in life is to be a professional liar. I want to make up shit. And I just did. So there.
Tomorrow's Post: Memoir vs. Novel
