Assorted Afflatuses

For most of Earth's population, the bad times become a good time to question the existence of God. I, on the other hand, seriously question my belief that no such power exists when everything falls apart. And, of late, no tragedy more horrific has befallen me than my extremely unpleasant and depressing experience with the college admissions process.

As anyone who has even heard my name now knows, I applied, partly out of hubris and out of well-reasoned counsel, to five schools. Initially four of them rejected me outright. But for the last two months I have lived with the faint hope of a spot at Northwestern hanging above my head.

Two days ago, however, that hope became yet more despair thanks to the arrival of one sadly anorexic envelope. It seems that my wit, whimsy and previous penchant for success were not enough even for the purple-tinged folks at Northwestern University to offer me a spot in this fall's freshman class.

Indeed, it is times such as these that I wonder whether or not some omniscient being is exacting his or her revenge upon me. What other force could have conspired to arrange such a terrible set of circumstances?

First I was condemned to apply in a year when every college set a new record for the number of applicants who wished to attend. Then the College Board just happened to incorrectly schedule me for a SAT Reasoning Test, rather than the SAT Subject Test, which prevented me from applying to Princeton early and subsequently diminished my chances of gaining admission there.

After I submitted my applications, every college, save Dartmouth, managed to lose at least one form, with the result that I had to mail them extras, which, for all I know, they never received. I went so far as to pay an exorbitant sum to have my SAT scores sent to schools via express delivery after four of them mysteriously failed to receive them when I had them mailed initially.

Then not one, but four of the schools sent me a flat out rejection. Northwestern, of course, decided to give me a position on their wait list, which also came to nothing.

So, while my piety pale in comparison to the founders of the Creation Museum, I have at least begun to consider reconsidering my belief that no all-powerful being exists. At least my crops were not destroyed by a plague of locusts.