The nightmares have begun.

At time of writing we have 8 days, 18 hours, 27 minutes and 30…29…28..etc. seconds until the dreaded/hoped for e-mail. But who’s counting?

Um, me. I’m counting.

I’m also >this< close to completely losing my $#*!. Of course, the worst thing isn’t even the nightmares, it’s the good dream I had, the dream where ManDork got in and we were utterly jubilant…

…and then I woke up.

The rumour mill tells us that about a third of the people who interviewed at University of Calgary will get a seat. But the rumour mill also says that (when you take into account people who are offered a seat but chose a different school) that in the end, 45% of interviewees will be offered a slot. But some of those people will be waitlisted…right up until the day before classes begin (true story).

If I thought it would ensure ManDork being in that 45% I would spend 45% of my time hopping on one foot while singing “Friday” and eating hot sauce. But it won’t. As it is, I spend >45% of my time worrying about Friday the 13th (yes, notification is on Friday the 13th, but no, we’re not superstitious).

This is the reality of trying to get into a Canadian med school: they weed out the weak by giving them heart attacks before they even have an offer to be admitted.