dangit, school, give me my marks!

I just got an email confirming they received my application. It was cc:ed to every applicant, cc not bcc, so I guess soon I'll find out what percentage of this year's applicants will reply to all with questions about their app. Heh. Looks like there were fewer than last year, but maybe there are just a bunch of others who don't have email. Interviews aren't till the middle of july, so I might not know till almost august. Ack. Well, the new house should be a good distraction.

Last week a friend of mine found out she didn't get in to her grad school and I had a moment of combined indignation (because she's SO perfect for this) and panic (ack SHE didn't get in, what if I don't?) But then a few days ago they offered her admission for the next semester. Relief!

Once this semester's grades are in, school will automatically send off my transcript and then my application is complete. As far as I know. They're too busy to respond to people asking if everything has been received, but if they don't receive everything you're kind of screwed. Maybe there's an appeals process, but with such competition maybe there isn't. La la la, not that they're liable to lose anything, or that my school is liable to whoops! mail that transcript to tibet! or anything.

It's easter monday. Markets are open but no one cares. I keep feeling idly like I should be using my slack time to study.. something. There's nothing to study. Hah! This weekend I slept and slept and baked desserts. I made monkey pops and mini lemon meringue pies, they were so cute. I have all this TIME! Today I am going running. Yes!

I've had a baby-filled week. I went to a baby dedication on saturday and met the baby on thursday at a choir wine and cheese. So tiny! So cute! Really only hearing about someone's travails with their 14 year old daughter turned off my throbbing parental urge. Ew, did I just say "throbbing"..? Let's pretend I left that out. Anyway. There are so NO babies on the horizon until after school, though the pseudo-in-laws might be disappointed to hear it. Just when I had boy's dad trained not to drop hints about grandchildren, his mom has taken it up. She's been babysitting a 1 year old lately and it has babies on her brain or something.

Giving notice to the landlord today. God, we will be SO glad to get out of this building. As if sensing our immanent departure, the first floor has upped their "disgusting smell" campaign. You can either ride the elevator down, which will smell either of fresh cigarette smoke or undiluted industrial disinfectant, or take the stairs and then brave the first floor hallway of horrors, which usually boasts a combination of 3 or 4 of the following: marijuana, fried fish, garbage, feet, urine, vomit, cat pee, mildew, spaghetti. Charming! For a while the front door didn't latch at all, which kind of fit in with the building's theme - the back door has never latched, and half the neighbourhood knows the entry code anyway, and none of the porch doors I've seen is mounted right, they all seem to have a half-inch gap at the top even when locked. Anyway, so they finally fixed the front door, and added a big sturdy bar on it too. Installing it they managed to break the enterphone just to maintain the balance of brokenness. Sigh. Soon I'll be in the land of "meets the fire code" and "doesn't have shag carpetting." So very, very soon.

Boo, it's not even 8. I quit. Wait, not yet.