So I won't be in Houston for the summer
I'll be home, probably.
The first letter (or email, as it were) of rejection for a couple years stings only a little bit. I suppose it serves as a memento mediocre (I'm making this up?) and motivation to push myself the bit I need. It's weird to be reminded that there are (at least) two people better than me (and probably younger than me) at this art history/museum thing, and that if I don't want to let those (at least) two punks stand in my way for grad work, I'm gonna have to shape up.
Let this be the worst point of my week.
(This always happens)
The first letter (or email, as it were) of rejection for a couple years stings only a little bit. I suppose it serves as a memento mediocre (I'm making this up?) and motivation to push myself the bit I need. It's weird to be reminded that there are (at least) two people better than me (and probably younger than me) at this art history/museum thing, and that if I don't want to let those (at least) two punks stand in my way for grad work, I'm gonna have to shape up.
Let this be the worst point of my week.
(This always happens)