So, you know how in movies there is sometimes that sequence where our unlucky hero suffers a series of misfortunes as the clock to some important deadline slowly ticks down. Well, it actually happens. Here is how it went (contains realistic swearing).
The mail was scheduled to leave at 4:30. If I wanted my application to get to Washington on time, today was the last day I to send it and still be safe.
3:50 and I am just leaving Roddy's office with corrections for the final draft of my personal statement (started working on it in mid-September, went through 6 drafts). I run to the computer room to make connections and print it out. 3:52. Line. Shit. At 3:59 I finally get on the computers and make my corrections. People see that I am editing a paper rather than just printing one out, they start to grumble. 4:09 and I am done. I start to run across the quad to the Coffee House to make copies of my passport, transcript and letter that says I'll be graduating. I get there at 4:11. I realize I have only a quarter, enough for 2 copies. I try to insert a dollar. Damn machine won't take my dollar! Fine, just 2 copies then, and I'll get change made at the register. Oh crap! The machine is broken. 4:15 and start to run to Campus Copies, but hello, there is a working printer by the door. I make my copies. 4:20 and I run over to the Coral to get some paper clips. What the...where are the paper clips? "Excuse me, do you have any paper clips?" "Yeah they are right...oh...no, I guess not. You'll have to go to the bookstore." Crap. 4:23 and I run to the bookstore. Paperclips. Cool. Gold or multicolored? No time you fool! Buy them both! Shit. OK. "How are you today?" "Um, I'm a little rushed." "That'll be $2.98." "Um, 3. I don't need change." 4:27. Oh Hell. Run to the Post Office. "Mail leave yet?" "No, it leaves at 4:30." Good. Quick, collate. Application, statement, transcript. Wait, this isn't my transcript. Oh here it is. Wait! This isn't my statement of purpose! It is the old version! Crap, I remember getting my copies from the printer. Oh. They're in my bag. Here we go. 4:29. Quick. That looks like a mail truck out the window. Oh no. Don't think, just collate. Wait, actually, think but use your thinking to collate. OK. Now paper clip it all together. That's it. Shit. Golden or multi-colored paper clip? NO TIME! Pink is fine. Alright. Final check. Good, I think that is it. "Can you ship this to Washington D.C. the fastest most expensive way possible?" "Um, well we can sent it Priority Mail and it'll be there in two days..." "Good. I'll do that." "OK here is the form, but hurry, you can see the mail guy walking to pick it up." Like I need to be told. OK. JET Program, 3454 M... no. I have to write Massachusetts!? Just write it! OK, done. "Here you go."
And the package was placed in the bag 1 second before the mail guy picked it up. I walked out of the post office and felt the muscles in my back melt in relief.
So now it is temporarily out of my hands. Hope for the best, but no point in worrying. I go to Hawaii tomorrow. A welcome vacation.
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