I was delayed, I was waylaid

It's my birthday in four days. And for the first time in my 22 years I look old. I don't need to tell anyone that I feel old, because I was born with the temperament of a forty-year old and we've always known that. When I turned thirteen I was wondering when it would be socially acceptable again to wear the evening away with weak tea and a one day rental. Now I have the appearance to pull off "grown-up" but none of the accessories. I feel a bit cheated, like I bought Dr. Barbie but her stethoscope and pink dream ambulance are sold separately.

Wednesday my ability to vie for Teach for America pipedream was taken out of my hands. I made it through THE LETTER OF INTEREST, I made it through THE ONLINE TEST, I made it through the 45 minute long PHONE INTERVIEW, and good God, I was invited to the big boss of TFA: THE FINAL INTERVIEW. Can you believe it?

So I surmounted my spurts of gagging in the car ride there, and managed to find the room without any anxiety puke on my JCPenny suit. There were about 8 other interviewees there, and they were from big name schools like Penn and Notre Dame. They were all very eloquent and friendly and lovely and well dressed. And I wanted to feel like I belonged around that table with them. The whole thing (which I have to skim over here out of repeated urges from TFA that we not reveal any part of the interview process) lasted a few hours. By the end I had to sort of believe that I did my best and that if I wasn't chosen that someone better suited would be. And if I really believed in the cause of TFA that I knew that it was for the best anyway. They have to choose who they feel can do the most good. Of course, I don't know if I was or was not chosen yet. I'll find out at the beginning of April. If I am, I'll be sent to what they call "Teacher Boot Camp" over the summer to train for my placement. But I don't want to think anymore about that yet.