in the age of anxiety

I have discovered these cursed places: the Poets & Writers Speakeasy forum, The Suburban Ecstasies 2008 record of MFA responses, and the are we there yet blog. This is me, sitting at the computer, pressing the refresh button every sixty four seconds, hoping to see more news.

Of course, news on the forums is bad news; it is celebrations of others' news of acceptance and the inevitability of rejection. For example, Cornell did their phone calls this weekend--this means I will get the small envelope in the mail from them. In a way, this is a double rejection, a strange way to find out, in the flowering of others' joy, in the fading of our own loss. Cornell seemed so beautiful, such a long shot.

No, Iowa is a long shot.

Oh, they all are.

I can't help but picture myself as an ape in a cage, banging my fists against the bars, rattling at regular intervals to drive my zoo-mates mad. My lungs are a wet rag of anxiety, and I know I won't hear from most until mid-March or later.

I am probably worked up into this state because I haven't known for weeks now what I actually, truly want. Nothing is perfect: I love the idea of going away to school, the break in the routine, but that would mean a long distance marriage for a while; I love the idea of staying with my husband but still attending an actual brick and mortar MFA program, but I don't entirely relish a third degree from the same university and I'm wary of giving up the position that may be available at the high school here; I could still teach and get a low-res MFA and there is nothing wrong with that, but I do love the idea of focusing a bit more.

All this ping ponging about and I've only gotten one (official) acceptance and one (unofficial) rejection.

I do know this thing for sure: I want to begin an MFA program in poetry next year. (And I want the decision to be made for me--won't you decide for me? Won't you zap me into the future, the time when I'll know which cards are face up?)

Lovely things:
- this napkin set from crate + barrel
- these bird salt and pepper shakers found via this blog
- today is my six month wedding anniversary (and eight years, six months, and twenty six days of being together)
- Smartwool socks