I have to write a 250 word essay describing my leadership skills. This morning I asked Drew if being a follower who complains loudly about the people in charge could possibly be spun as de facto leadership.

I tried to write this yesterday but was so fatigued by hours spent describing all my best qualities in essay form that I just couldn't do it; the self-congratulatory well had run dry. I thought I'd be able to use my coffee high this morning to sling something together. Instead I found myself watching Paris Hilton's music video on youtube and emailing Jana about how moronic Billy Bush's red carpet interviews were at the Emmys. Time well spent!

This whole essay thing is freaking me out. Plus I think I'm feeling a little lost post-MCAT. I keep thinking of my little sister's best friend from back home, Jennifer. Jennifer grew up on her grandfather's farm and since her mother died from cancer three years ago she's been running the place with her husband. She's always had the same goals, the same interests, and every time I talk to her she sounds content. She misses her mom, but she loves her life on the farm. She has money and friends and a husband who loves her. She just seems like she's always been where she belongs.

And then there's me. If I say what I'm really thinking I know people will respond with a supportive "you're growing" and "life's all about changes" but to me I feel so cut off from who I was as a kid. I'm sure that's normal and everything. I'm not so sure Drew feels that way, though. I look at photos of him as a teenager and I see the same sweet, shy, geeky, adorable guy. I look back at myself and I see anger and confusion. As a preteen I latched onto movies and television shows and in a way I feel like my frustration over my identity is what led me into film and television. I was so out of place in my hometown. By the time I moved away for college I was pretty universally hated amongst my peer group because of my sexuality. Actually I guess I don't know for a fact that that was the problem. But I assumed so when so many guys in my class were yelling "FREAK!" during my valedictory address at graduation. Anyway... all of this is probably just a way for me to twist things around so that my career change makes sense on paper.

In 250 words or less, please explain why the fuck you smoked so much weed in college and got a C+ in calculus: "I was depressed. I get that way sometimes. But I'm good now; no worries. And I've traded in the weed for gin." [Word Count. Fuck.]

These fucking medical school applications. They're designed for 21 year-olds whose lives are much easier to boil down into 250 words. They're for the kids who have been focused on one goal for the past 4-8 years. So I have to reconfigure some things about myself to write these essays and then I don't know whether I 100% believe what I'm saying.

OH JUST WRITE THE DAMN ESSAY. Jesus H. Okay. Where's the coffee?

 

The MCAT has been shelved. I'd like to say it's over, but I can't honestly think that until I get my score. I may have to retake it in January. The test was on Saturday and it was brutal. People walked out. A girl broke down and cried at the end. I saw one kid from my Kaplan review class walking around in a daze at lunch. I asked him if he was okay and he said it was "half poker face, half fear." I said I felt like I was in a trance, which helped cut some of the tension. We couldn't decide if being in a trance was a good way to take the test or not.

Now I'm writing secondary applications. I was writing an essay just now and saw that under the boxes for the MCAT score the school said "If your verbal score is between 13 and 15 please enter 15 in the space provided'; i felt like throwing up. I got a 13 twice on my practice tests, but on Saturday I felt I gave a "10" performance. Today my fear has been that my score is 10/10/9, which would be one point shy of what I need.

I wanted to update the blog so many times in the past few weeks, but I was so incredibly anxious and I feared that putting that anxiety into words would make it seem insurmountable. Now I see I was right. Writing 10/10/9 made me sweat. I'm sitting here sweating now.

From where I'm sitting I can see my MCAT books on the shelf. I wish I could burn them.