Acceptance and Rejection

I've been accepted to one school, rejected from Iowa, and put on the waitlist for another, the one that was sort of my first choice.

Oh, Iowa, one day when I am acclaimed you will look back and say, "Wow, look what sensitivepoet has done! Fools that we were, to reject her from our workshop."

I didn't want to go there anyway.

No, really, I would have liked to get in, but it would have been mostly for my ego, to know that Iowa thinks I'm awesome; there were a variety of reasons why I was leaning towards not going there, even if I were accepted.

At least the one school I got into offers a full ride. If I hadn't gotten at least one acceptance I'd be in a far worse mood now.

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While dreaming the other night, I had an idea for a poem. The title, premise, and some line fragments and images. I planned to write it down, of course, but didn't get around to it. Then another morning a couple of days later I remembered that I'd dreamt of a poem, but I couldn't recall any of it. Luckily, maybe assisted by my hypnopompic state, I was able to recall more or less all of it, I think. It will be tricky because I'm not really sure where it's going, but I like it. I like the story it's based on. Not that it's a pleasant story, but it does stick in your head. I remember first reading her name, as a child, when I was searching in a baby names book, for names for a cat. Although the sound of the name wasn't really beautiful to me, I liked the meaning.