I seem to remember I used to get paid to write other people’s essays…

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January 15, 2013 by vlittle528

I have an unsettling feeling. One very much like I did after I finished putting the stamp on hours and hours of hard work and sat staring at the envelope on the table. I even went out and bought a clear presentation cover for the application. I did all I can do. And tomorrow morning I am going to turn it in and wait-though I am not quite sure which answer I am looking for.

This time the application isn’t mine. This time the application doesn’t determine where I will spend the next four years of my life. This essay wasn’t about me, the references weren’t from my most beloved teachers that I sucked up to the most. This time the application is my son’s. And it just may determine where he will spend the next eight years of his life. The essay I wrote three times (and the questions I answered twice at least) were about him, and the references were from the teacher who got him to where he is and two of the people who love him almost as much as I do. And honestly, I think I worked harder on this application than I did to any of mine.

Seriously. The boy owes me a year’s worth of allowance for all the work I did. With the recession and all (are we still calling it that?), I am pretty sure that I could charge at least triple what I used to charge for finishing an essay. I did write my college boyfriend’s speech when he ran for president of his fraternity for free. Though I seem to remember getting taken to Marlowe’s for a thank-you. And a case of Mountain Dew.

It seems as if getting into college was easier. At least the chances were better. There were more slots open. Now the open spots are few (and unknown to me actually) and the competition is tough. And IF you are eligible, then most likely you will get put into a lottery. A lottery where siblings of students are usually chosen first. No chance of calling in the big guys hiding in the back of the restaurant…rank is rank.

But now that it is sitting here with all of my heart poured into it, I am unsure. Unsure of so many different things. What if he isn’t even eligible? What if it is just a bad day and he really doesn’t even want to try to focus on the test? What if they don’t like one of my answers or my essay?

And then what if he IS eligible, but there isn’t a spot for him? So close yet so far away. And let’s face it, I might feel a bit more guilty about wearing my pajamas to a location further than two minutes away. And I am going to be a lot more prone to do it since I will have to wake up earlier.

And finally…what if he IS eligible and he DOES get in? There are still things to think about. Like how he will just have to leave everything he knows in 8th grade and make all new friends. And how the school is further away. And what if his sister doesn’t get in? (And even if she does, what if it isn’t right for her?) I like the school he is in now. I love the teachers, I love the heart, I love the philosophies. I love how close it is. Do we want to leave that? How will he feel about leaving the best friends he has made? (And really, the whole “he is only a five year old” doesn’t really work with him. He is still pining for his preschool girlfriend, and his BF of ALLLLLLLL is still his preschool buddy). And again…do I really want to have to wake up twenty minutes earlier?

So here I sit. Staring at the application. Letting myself worry about things I don’t have control over now that the pretty cover is on. It is amazing how it is almost more nerve-wracking when it is literally your heart that is on the line.


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