CTE: Commit to enroll. This is a deadline enforced by schools, typically about 1 month prior to the start of school.
Today I sent out my last official waitlist withdrawal notice. This last school of medicine responded within the hour, the email like a curt nod from a butler. An “It is done”-type reply with a monotone finality. Climactic in a nothing-actually-happened kind of way, but you still hear that slammed door echoing in the hallways of your ear.
In reality, it would be a bit late to get off the waitlist at this point. It certainly happens, and it’s hard not to keep thinking that moment is right around the corner. But Hubs and I have some other big decisions to make, and so it was time to move on. It’s really nice to have made my decision.
So now I’m glad to cross out all (major) checklist items except one: finding a place to live. The tricky thing is sneaking in the fact that we have two mastiffs… We HAD found a place. A cozy but modern house close to the school in a nice and safe neighborhood. We paid our deposit, and all was well. Until the owner, who had previously been totally agreeable to our dogs, told us that his insurance doesn’t cover mastiffs. This is hard for me believe, knowing the breed as I do. But okay. It wasn’t meant to be.
Actually, that’s really become my motto. At the point that things are out of my control, that final step at the tippy top of a staircase, there are only two options: meant to be or not.
And to come full circle, that’s the attitude it took to remove myself from a waitlist. If it were meant to be, it would have happened already. And that’s that.