THE INTERVIEW

Just returned from THE INTERVIEW.

It was... NERVOUS MAKING! HOLY CRAP!

The sign said to have a seat and wait until called. They kept me squirming out there for 15 minutes, finally calling me in late. I was actually about to call admissions and see if I was in the right place.

I walked in and was seated at the head of a long table. Three doctors were there: A man with a Rasputin-type long beard, a woman with a vague/intellectually superior-sounding European accent, and Dr. Merrill, the fro-wearing joke-maker.

And they grilled me! Whoa. Everything, top to bottom. Why them, why now, what do I wanna do, how do I feel around groups, around women, around drug addicts, am I a drug addict, what do I do for fun...? I was nervous, but never quite became a wreck.

They liked my answers, and told me so. I stumbled once or twice (why were they asking me what I made in some of my classes? They had my transcripts right there. All I could say was "no worse than a B."). I got lucky too, like when they asked who I like to read. Steinbeck got first mention, and Dr. Merrill said he's just spent the spring re-reading the collected works of 'beck himself. Score one for serendipity.

SO, they said if I'm accepted it'll be conditionally, pending me getting six more hours of psych over the summer. I think I'm in. I wish I had a chance to go back and take a different stab at a couple questions, but overall I think I did well.

I haven't been full of such nervous energy since this girl at a wedding reception asked me to spend the night at her place one time!

(Sorry Michael/Georgina for babbling the way I did that night. Obviously I am NOT used to that kind of attention).

Much love to you all.