The second time I've ever cried for happiness

I woke up at five this morning with a pit of nervousness in my stomach. Turning over, I tried to go back to sleep, jolting awake again every few minutes. By the time my alarm went off at 6:45 I was wide awake, and I rolled stiffly out of bed with an immediacy not present on most school mornings. I dressed and put in my lucky parrot earrings, though I wouldn't have to leave the house for another half hour. You see, I was about to find out about college.

It's the University of St Andrews, in Scotland, which makes the time difference eight hours; when I called at seven am it was three in the afternoon for them. I dialed the call first on my phone card, and was informed that I had only three minutes remaining - too few, I decided, to hear my fate. Dialing the international number straight into my home phone, I sat with bated breath - and was informed I would need a credit card to make the call. So I picked up my phone card again, hoping desperately that I would be able to make the call in a mere three minutes or less.

It rang once. It rang again. An automated British voice answered, listing options in a tired voice. "Stay on the line to speak to an admissions officer," the voice concluded, and the line went silent for what seemed interminably long. My digital clock silently ticked from 6:57 to 6:58. Finally, after what seemed far too long, an admissions officer picked up the phone, and with relief I told her my name, asking after the status of my application. Precisely then, the Sprint voice said cheerfully, "You have two minutes remaining." On the other end, the woman for whom I'd been spelling my name said, "I'm sorry, could you spell it again? I think we've got a bad connection." Trying to think calm thoughts, I spelled it out again M-C-K-E-L-V-E-Y... "Wait just a moment," she replied. "I'll find your file." I looked at the digital clock, which now said 6:59. I felt vaguely frantic. "I'm going to hand you over to someone else," the woman told me, coming back on the line, and I instantly felt foolish for having attempted to make the call on just three minutes. Of course there wouldn't be enough time.

"Hello," said a familiar voice cheerfully. The woman to whom I spoke last month, the same woman who told me to call back on January 10th. "Holly, right? Your name sounds familiar." I began to remind her that it was because I'd called a month ago, asking after my application, but was interrupted by the Sprint voice. "You have one minute remaining," it told me, and I bit the inside of my cheek frantically. Just tell me! I thought, panicked, trying as hard as I could to communicate telepathically, to somehow make the process go faster, make my file more easily accessible, something. "Well, Holly," she said after an endless moment during which I could practically hear the seconds ticking away, "you were made an offer yesterday, and your packet has been sent out this morning."

And that's how I was accepted to college in less than three minutes. I hung up the phone after copious "thank you's" on my part and a cheerful "Bye now!" from the admissions officer, and burst into tears. After a moment I felt rather silly, because the only other member of the family who was there to observe my goings-on was the cat, who regarded me rather superciliously; in front of her unblinking stare my emotional response began to feel silly, and so I sniffled into a kleenex for a moment, dried my eyes, and ran into my mother's room, with a huge "I got in!"

And it's a wonderful feeling. I'm into my first choice school, I'm soon to be a second semester senior, and I haven't a care in the world. And I got balloons!

Labels: college, St Andrews

posted by Holly @ 6:02 PM