I felt very nervous when I woke up, opened my phone and saw that my GRE scores were available online.
I already felt like I didn’t do the best job, but I held out hope that the essays would have pulled me through.
Welp, long story short, they didn’t.
I have to take the test again. I have to plunk down more money that I didn’t want to. I contacted the admissions person today to see how far this would put me back. Even though I prepared myself for the possibility of having to take the test again, I had a bit of that hope that maybe just maybe I’ll sneak through. It will be just enough.
To make myself feel better, I scoured the internet for inspiration. And I looked for online programs that didn’t have a GRE requirement in case I take the test again and bomb again. I can’t do it more than three times.
So, the feeling of being stuck and suffocated started to take over. It’s a setback, sure. I’m a grown up, I’ve dealt with worse. But, truth be told, I wanted this to be my triumph, the start of a new season of greatness.
I’ve been in a rut going on three years now. Recovering from a terrible heartbreak, the stress of work, being bought out by a new company, floods of coworkers jumping ship, pay cuts, to an eventual upswing which led to a promotion.
I vacillate between being immensely grateful for my life having really fantastic moments where I got to spend time with family and friends or travel someplace new, but to having moments like I’m spinning my wheels.
I’ve been questioning so much, sometimes I don’t recognize myself. Some days I’m super optimistic and I cheer on others around me, other days, I feel like I’m lower than the dirt.
So here I am. I have to take the test again. I have to keep studying, and keep trying and get more questions right, especially on the math section. Period. Those are the facts. That’s real. It’s not the end of the world. I have to keep repeating that to myself. I just hate the feeling of not doing as well as I’d hoped.
So I read this from the Huffington Post. And I liked it. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/rana-florida/what-did-you-fail-at-toda_b_3817414.html
Successful people fail all of the time. Blah, blah.
But adding injury to insult, I saw Kyle Barker yesterday. He was flirting by phone and asked to come over. I basically told him flat-out that I was in no mood to be fucked. That I feel vulnerable and tired and I am in need of tenderness. If he couldn’t do it, or if he didn’t mean it, there was no point in a visit.
Not sure if he was taken aback by my brutal honesty, but he responded that he really just wanted to see me and hadn’t seen me in a really long time. So I agreed. We sat on my couch and watched a Kanye interview and he went on his merry way.
I was further frustrated by Wild Card. Around 9:20 p.m. he was sending me text messages, but it wasn’t even like general conversation. He wanted to know if I wanted to come over, in the rain, using a twisty, dangerousish road notoriously horrible under regular conditions.
I politely declined. He said nothing else for the rest of the night. My dearest male friend was coaching me along the way. “Yeah, homie, if he doesn’t respond, he just wanted you to come over and smash. Sorry.”
It was a gut punch. I wanted this guy to like me and respect me and see all of the awesomeness that I’m made of. We’ve hung out three times. Once out for a meal and drinks. The last two times, within the last week at his home.
The first house visit was cut and dry and sweet. We watched an indie flick, had a good time shared a blanket on the couch. He offered that I could stay, I didn’t. The second visit, we decided to have a game night and have drinks.
I over imbibed, and eventually got sick. That night, he did kiss me. And he also spent a part of the night laying with me on the bathroom floor. When we retreated to his super luxurious bed, he held me close as we slept.
I thought that these actions had to mean that he was kind of interested and thought somewhat highly of me. But I can’t peg it. I just can’t. I’m not a repository for penis. I have a brain, I have feelings. Why do I always want to impress men who could care less? It’s infuriating because I know I’m better than this bullshit. I’m told over and over by my older, wiser and amazing cousin that I’m impatient. That is probably my problem. But still. Dating these days is terrible and hard and frustrating.
You are trying to read between the lines of text messages because people don’t call anymore, and when you hang out you are trying to read body language or get a feeling… ugh. We are all just fumbling around in the dark. It’s depressing.
Your girl is in serious need of a break from everything. So Thanksgiving being tomorrow and the five-hour drive ahead is probably what I need, although, I don’t like having that much time to be stuck in a car with my thoughts. I may feel worse by the time I hit my parent’s driveway.
So yep, I’m a bad mood bear today. I feel like an unloveable failure, doomed to a life of mediocrity and loneliness, who peaked too soon in her early to mid twenties. Boo. The struggle is real. But it is what it is.
I do want all the 29 to lifers to have a fantastic holiday weekend! Don’t eat too much, but enjoy every bite and every moment with the folks you love the most. If you can’t be with your loved ones reach out to them, tell them you are thankful for them, and send up a prayer of thanks for those you’ve lost. Hugs!