Return of the Dial-An-Excuse!

And today's big grand news: I submitted my super late application package to the history MA program! Yay! It's not longer hanging over my head. It's completely out of my hands. Some of my profs have used the term "formality" but I have atrocious luck so I am not believing anything good until I see "accepted" in writing on official letterhead. Should something go awry and I not be accepted, well... shit, I guess I'll have to do something else.

I once again got the death glare from my mother. I don't really understand the point of the death glare. If I'm dead, it won't matter if I get accepted or not. I'll be dead. I also got the "what are you going to do if this doesn't work out?" again.

I'm really sick of that question. Like, really sick of it. To the point where I can't describe how sick of it I am. I think I'm going to come up with some standard issue answers. To help me, I'm going to follow the example of my handy dandy Dial-An-Excuse. I was given this tool a few years ago to help me make up excuses for any number of situations. One simply spins the wheel so it aligns with the correct situation and five possible excuses are revealed. If you need further explanations regarding the Dial-An-Excuse, please follow this link: link.

Right, so our question is: What are you going to do?

Our categories are: Classic, Extenuating, Mundane, Sob Story and Farfetched.

Lauren, what are you going to do if you don't get accepted to the history MA program?

• Classic: I'll start handing out resumes and relentlessly job hunting. Any job is better than no job. 
• Extenuating: I'll be in the hospital, being guarded by two burly security men because I had a psychotic break at the thought of never being able to get the hell out of this town. 
• Mundane: I'll think of something. I always land on my ass. It's the extra padding that allows me to get back up time after time.
• Sob Story: I will stalk the head of admissions and desperately explain that I've been working in abusive environments for the last six years, that all of my friends live out of town, that my family can't accept my sexuality and that I only have my ailing cat to keep me company. I need to be in school. It's the only thing I have that makes sense!
• Farfetched: Leave town with my long-time secret boyfriend (yes, boyfriend) Bubba Jo Scruffy-Stache and become a tattoo artist in the employ of a rowdy criminal biker gang. 

The only reason I put that much thought into these answers is because STFU is not considered a suitable response. Although, according to my Dial-An-Excuse, suitable excuses for rude comments include:

• Classic: Chronic foot in mouth
• Extenuating: Onset of migraine
• Mundane: Didn't think before speaking
• Sob Story: Driven by self-loathing
• Farfetched: Speaking in tongues.
• Truth: I meant it.

Oops... that last one isn't on my wheel. Sorry about that. 

Once again, I have to wait. I really hate this part.

Lauren.