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Well This Summer Is Off To A Great Start
Jun. 2nd, 2010 03:02 pmFinally heard back from Undergraduate Research and I...didn't get my arts grant. I haven't been talking about it at all online because I was afraid to jinx it, but I guess it doesn't really matter now.
What do I do with myself now?
I mean, financially I'm pretty sure I'm okay even without the grant money; I was really careful with my expenses this year and while I haven't gotten my aid letter for next year yet, tentative signs say I didn't bugger it up like last year. I'll have to be careful with my money over the summer, but it's not like I go out clubbing every weekend or buy a new pair of shoes every chance I get, I think I can manage not to spend too much while I'm home. And it's not like I can't write the stories I wanted to write for this project anyway; actually, I probably will, because I really liked several of the ideas I was working on a lot. It's just...the extra money would have helped a lot, and I really don't want to spend another summer being lectured by my family about why I'm not working a real job and feeling like a fuck-up.
And it would have been a much appreciated validation of my writing abilities. Instead, now I'm sitting here wondering why my short story project about female, queer, and Latina identity in the contemporary Southwest is less worthy of funding than my friend's epic poem about a Swedish gnome that saves a bunch of forest mice from a fox.
Man, this day has fucking blown. And I've got too much work to do to even properly wallow in feeling sorry for myself. Fan-fucking-tastic.
What do I do with myself now?
I mean, financially I'm pretty sure I'm okay even without the grant money; I was really careful with my expenses this year and while I haven't gotten my aid letter for next year yet, tentative signs say I didn't bugger it up like last year. I'll have to be careful with my money over the summer, but it's not like I go out clubbing every weekend or buy a new pair of shoes every chance I get, I think I can manage not to spend too much while I'm home. And it's not like I can't write the stories I wanted to write for this project anyway; actually, I probably will, because I really liked several of the ideas I was working on a lot. It's just...the extra money would have helped a lot, and I really don't want to spend another summer being lectured by my family about why I'm not working a real job and feeling like a fuck-up.
And it would have been a much appreciated validation of my writing abilities. Instead, now I'm sitting here wondering why my short story project about female, queer, and Latina identity in the contemporary Southwest is less worthy of funding than my friend's epic poem about a Swedish gnome that saves a bunch of forest mice from a fox.
Man, this day has fucking blown. And I've got too much work to do to even properly wallow in feeling sorry for myself. Fan-fucking-tastic.