This is what GW is doing this week: some people are in hell right now.
All those little red boxes, which are hard to see on a screen shot, they're rejections. Gah! There are little areas where you can see what their packages looked like (GPA/GRE, etc), and these people were no slouches (4.0, etc). What is even harder to see, is that all these people were applying to a Political Science PhD program. Phew, glad I'm not one of them. But, it just means that PolySci went through a massive sweep of notifications this week, and it didn't look good for those folks, did it?
Oh, and the kicker? No one was even emailed, or called, or sent a letter. They all just randomly logged into their applications and discovered that they were rejected. Isn't that nice? Spend $75 on an application, agonize for months, and no one even bothers to tell you that you didn't get in.
To be fair, the application system lags behind email notification by a few hours, sometimes up to a day, so their "formal" notification may be to follow, but still. Since anyone in this process checks all their available avenues of information constantly, it's no wonder that they knew via system before they were notified. It's still a bum way to find out, right?
In other news, I hate Liberty Mutual for the rest of my life. They sent this envelope today, which I discovered, face down, in the mailbox. This is what I call a heart attack in an envelope.
Oh, and why such venom? Because my application status changed on Catholic's student system yesterday. So, I can't view it anymore, meaning they are done with it. Done. Finto. I should be seeing something from them. Any. Second. Not just "soon," but any day. Like tomorrow (since today's mail contained this gem, and some circulars).
I may actually burst before then.
Homer is equally stressed out. I know it's a little blurry, but he was sleeping in such a ridiculous position, I couldn't resist the photo opportunity.
My men (and my lady) are taking it all in stride). Daphne is pushing everyone to one small corner of the couch. Bryon wasn't feeling well here. Poor guy gets sick so rarely, guess it was his turn.
P.S. Bryon's sleeping, so I scrawled the following across the front of the envelope and slid it under his door: "Dear Liberty Mutual: F.U. Love and Kisses, Rachel" (I wonder if the envelope will catch his heart in his throat for a second when he wakes up, as it did mine).
Thankful For Takeout
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