16 September 2005: Sue Me If I Play Too Long

I'm laid up with the flu.

Dragon Lady is away for the rest of the month on a well-deserved vacation. She's at a Buddhist meditation retreat right now; after the retreat, she's headed straight for a week in Hawaii.

Last night I went into San Francisco for an informational meeting about the Bachelor of Arts completion program that I'm hoping to get into, at the same school at which I'm hoping to pursue my M.A. afterwards. I spent the whole day feeling the flu coming on, trying to hold it back long enough to make it to, and through, the meeting. I did make it, but just barely; when I got home I collapsed with a case of the shivers that lasted for most of the night.

At the meeting, I learned that applications were being processed, and admissions decisions made, on a first-come, first-served basis, and that the program was almost full already. I need to get my application to them in the next few days, or try again in the Fall.

Two of my favorite teachers are working on my letters of recommendation. I've got a copy of my transcript, and it's impressive. What I don't have is the 5-7 page autobiographical Personal Statement, explaining what my goals are, and what circumstances in my life led me to these goals.

I got as far as the beginning of the second paragraph before I started crying.

I haven't taken any pseudoephedrine or any other medication for my flu symptoms.

I keep doing other things - answering email, web-surfing, eating, trying to stand up long enough to make a dent in the gigantic pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

I need to write this essay, but every time I even think about it, I start crying again.

I've got no problem with crying; I've done aikido while crying; and after I post this entry, eat some more food, and have another shot at the dishes, I expect I'll end up writing the whole thing while crying. That's okay with me. I've never been one to shy away from feeling - my own or anyone else's.

It's just... well, I had no idea.