On Closing Doors

This morning, I hit snooze for a long time and then decided to skip the 8:30 service, which bought me an extra hour. I was even late to Sunday School! Watch out. This afternoon, I made a new chart for my Alton Brown eating plan, which I hadn't done in such an official manner since, oh, September. I got a star for today, which means I ate everything I'm supposed to. But I also ate a whole lot of cookies this afternoon, which means I can't have any more dessert all week. (In my modified-for-sanity plan, a small piece of dark chocolate is acceptable on a daily basis in addition to "dessert" once a week, which can mean a series of small items or one large thing. It's surprising how far just a little chocolate can go in curbing cravings.)

I was going to exercise this afternoon, but it was cold and damp out, and I have an aversion to exercising between two public appearances because I hate getting made up and hair did twice in one day. Blech. So, first thing tomorrow, no matter how cold, even if it's raining a little bit, I'm going out. I walked a fair amount on my trip but didn't run and certainly didn't eat healthily, so I'm reestablishing my good habits, and today was the beginning.

It occurred to me just today that Austin might be the happy medium between Richmond and New York. It's supposed to be pretty liberal but still has a Presbyterian foundation. In reputation for fun and, I'm guessing, in size, it's in between the other two cities. It has a two-week summer course where you hike and camp and learn about nature and spirituality (at least I think that's what you learn about; I stopped listening once he said "hike and camp for two weeks"). I still haven't heard whether I'm in. I'm mailing two of my "no"s tomorrow, to Princeton and to Iliff. It feels weird to put an end to a possibility, to a relationship really. I'm so used to broadening searches, keeping options open, waiting to see, needing to hear from someone else as opposed to being the one to say the word, that it feels highly unnatural to take this very tangible and final step of closing these doors. And for no reason that I can articulate, nothing but the blossoming feeling I get in my gut while visiting or thinking about other schools.

While I was working on my thesis, Philip told me at one point that it was time to close some doors, narrow my focus for the book. It hurt, but he was right, it was necessary. This is the same feeling. The good part is that I got into so many places and have so many options, and that I absolutely can't go wrong. I'm not going to be unhappy at any of these places, which is probably the most comforting thought of all. What a great privilege to go through this process, and to share it with you.