I was sifting through the past few days of mail, when I saw an envelope that came from Pepperdine Law School. My heart sped up a beat, and then I quietly kept sifting through the rest of the mail, determined not to piddle my pants.
The envelope was rather thin, which I took as a bad sign. I always imagined an acceptance “letter” would be more similar to a child’s pop-up book with the president of the school jumping up to tell me, “You’re awesome! Come to Pepperdine!” They would also enclose a pamphlet informing how to blend in with all the local celebrities and millionaires.
The first thing I identified was a Business Reply Envelope. This is for me to send them another $50 for wasting their time because the first $50 wasn’t sufficient recompense for how much my application sucked, which they were forced to read. Well, that’s what I thought at first.
So, I opened the actual letter part. They informed me I was on the waitlist.
There it is, ladies and gentlemen, I’m on the waiting list for Pepperdine.
Fortunately, the waitlist is not ranked, so I think I have a pretty good chance of getting in if they have to tap into the wait list. Why am I so confidant? Because I am awesome. Like I had to tell you.
I’ll know by June whether or not I’ll actually get in.
A third piece of paper in the envelope asked whether I wanted to be put on the wait list or not. They had two options: “Yes, please put me on the wait list” and “No, I do not want to be on the wait list.” I was disappointed there wasn’t a “Hell yes! Put me on the damn wait list!” I’ve already checked the appropriate box, stuffed it in the business reply envelope, and sent it back to the business from whence it came.