only thing to do is jump over the moon

Seeing as how it's five minutes to four in the morning and considering that since I've been swept up in the supernova of a relationship that I generally just call "steve" I have been much less of a later night person - I'll make this short.

I don't really know who I'm writing this for (me? my friends? my family? the internet at large?) But I felt as though this day, April 08th, deserved to be noted. After nearly a month of wringing my hands, having nightmares about tornadoes and plane crashes and phone calls to Steve at 1:30 in the afternoon every weekday while the mail man walked down my street, I finally received my grad school letter from U of T's Drama Centre. What's even better is that I got in! My hands were shaking as I opened the slim envelope and when I read the first five words "we are pleased to offer..." out loud, while my housemates listened outside the door and Steve nearly had an ulcer over the phone ... well, I felt absolutly drunk, I was so happy.

I can't really explain what this means to me - I guess I don't even have to. What difference would it make to me for you to know? This is a personal hurdle for me of epic proportions and I don't want or need anyone to tell me that I did a good job, I don't need anyone to know how much I care, don't need to run out into the street and scream it to the world. I have a quiet strength that has come from knowing that someone looked at what I've done, at who I am and what I'm passionate about, and said "we want her". For me, this is all I ever need to hear.

Essays, exams, money, divorce, moving, hell - even coming up with the money to MAKE it to grad school: these can all wait. For now, for the last few minutes of this day, I want to soak in the fact that my efforts have not gone unappreciated, that someone believes that I can do this, and that I have so many phenomenal and supportive people in my life who I owe everything to.

Tommorow I work. Tonight, I bask.