If There Are Gods, They Are Laughing At Us

I’m a nervous wreck – happy, excited, cautious, exhausted, and terrified, all at the same time. My Finance class is halfway done, so I emailed Dream School with an update. Dream School’s reply: “We’ll consider you in Round 2.”

This is good, right? A second chance at life! So I should be excited. But it’s not guaranteed, so I shouldn’t get my hopes up. And I still have to keep up my grades for the rest of the class, so I should be focused. Combine this with the fact that I just turned down a school that wanted to offer me guaranteed admission and a scholarship, and yeah, I’m feeling pretty vulnerable right now. It’s almost like someone up above is playing with my head, watching to see how many times I will try to kick the football if they keep pulling it away at the last second.

The MBA Admissions gods are a sadistic bunch.

First there’s Ralph, god of Testtaking and Late Night Snacks. You can curry (no pun intended) his favor by leaving an unwrapped Clif Bar and half a can of Red Bull in your locker while you sit for the GMAT.

Then there’s Bertha, goddess of Resumes and Transcripts. She’s much more stubborn and cross than Ralph. However, it is foretold that if you dance naked at your old high school by the light of the full moon, one bad grade will magically disappear from your transcript.

Trixie, goddess of Anxiety and Self-Doubt, likes to lounge around other people’s houses for much longer than is normally polite, wearing pajamas and heaving dramatic sighs. Eugene, god of Continuous Essay Writing, enjoys slipping subtle typos into your otherwise perfect masterpiece, thereby forcing you into a downward spiral of agonizing revisions. Their trio is rounded out by Fabio, god of Confidence and Conceit, who enjoys giving long tirades on his many accomplishments but inside doubts that he has done enough.

The MBA Admissions gods, it is said, live in a palace high on Mount Acceptus, where they squabble amongst themselves over the fates of the unfortunate mortals below. Their leaders are Todd, god of Pleasant and Unpleasant Interviews, and his wife Janet, goddess of the Whims of Adcoms Everywhere.

So beware the wrath of the MBA Admissions gods, my friends. As for me, I will spend this weekend constructing an altar to Monique, goddess of Waitlisting and Decision-Making. She appreciates tribute in the amount of $1500, paid with check or credit card within 30 days, nonrefundable in the event that you accept the favor of another deity.  Keeping the Admissions Gods pacified is tough on the wallet.

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