Game of Chicken

I was appalled to see that a program that I had been considering withdrawing my application from sent me a rejection letter yesterday.

“Wait a damn minute!” I said out loud to no one in particular. “I was going to dump you!”

I sat there for a few minutes, pondering over the short, formal, and quietly condescending letter informing me that I wasn’t good enough. The tone was professional, but at the same time I perceived an underlying sensation that they’d looked at me and scoffed.

“What the hell does he mean applying here? Doesn’t he know we’re [Rocky Mountain Program]?! Begone with all inferior applicants!”

This letter was unexpected. While not being completely egotistic, I did feel that the programs I’d applied to would be offering me interviews – every one of them. I felt that I had a notable application which, like the airbrushed women on magazine covers, made me more appealing than perhaps in real life. At least you'd want one date before deciding otherwise.

In order to stop this from happening again I withdrew from another program that I’d grown less fond of over the last month and had been harboring thoughts of disatisfaction. I knew full well that the distance and cost was going to be more than I wanted to take on and had planned, if invited, to regretfully decline anyway. Instead I drew first blood. I didn’t want to be the loser in that break up as well.