This is my view on that whole iPad thing.

Grrr.

I've been really angry lately.  Some of it, at least the last two days worth, is stress over my application essay.  (I hate them for all the usual reasons people hate those things.  I feel really disingenuous writing them.)  Some of it is Ethan's grades (he almost failed three classes this semester.)  But in general, I have no reason to be as irrationally angry and short-tempered as I am.  Often this accompanies being broke, but we're actually pretty good right now, riding on the coattails of spring loan money and tax returns.  Hell, we just paid off the car!  No more car payment!  I know I've got some residual anger brewing over my vascular doctors.  They can't find my bypass, and think it may have closed up, since I have had some symptoms return.  They are in wait-and-see mode and I hate it.  They don't want to throw me into surgery again right away (and I'm not exactly excited about that prospect either) because if this bypass closed, what's to keep another one from closing.  But it's not enough to keep me constantly on tenterhooks.  Maybe the transfer to UW is getting to me more than I think.  I feel like it's a big step and often think that I am way not ready.  Community college was fucking easy.  University seems all SERIOUS BUSINESS.

Anyway, here's a portrait I took last night when I was trying to calm down.

I wrote my first draft of my application essay and now I'm waiting to get some feedback.  I don't think it's very typical and I think I was perhaps a little to honest, a little to reflective of how I'm feeling lately.  I used to think that we all stopped mentally aging at like seventeen and we're all faking this adult thing from them on, but more and more I'm realizing that's not the case at all.

I am a writer.

Hey kids!  I got to see my letter of recommendation.  I was pretty floored.  I don't even know what to say and am even more embarrassed that I haven't finished writing my application essay.  Below the cut is the letter of recommendation, if you're into that sort of thing:

 

( Who knew I was made of pure unadulterated awesome? )