Like, what if?
I wrote a letter tonight. It was a letter to an imaginary board of people, asking them to give me an imaginary chance on an imaginary application to an imaginary program. It felt good. Like Jerry-McGuire-writing-a-manifest good. And then I thought, What if it's not imaginary at all? What's the worst that could happen? I suppose I could get rejected and have to adjunct at three universities to make ends meet -- oh, wait, that's what I'm doing now.
Yeah. There's something sorta sweet being at the bottom, because what the heck, there really is nothing left to lose career-wise. (That should be word, right? Google says no, but careerwise feels like a word, and if it's not, it should be.)
And I feel more like myself tonight than I have in years, which can't be a bad thing.