As you may or may not know I have a severe case of self-loathing. In addition to that I often suffer what some may call irritable male syndrome, others may call it depression or anxiety, I call it being pissed. My meta-awareness, particularly in regards to my faults, is so powerful that is one of my most dominant qualities. So yeah, I have issues, not necessarily more so than anyone else, but they are most definitely there.

These issues (heretofore known as troubles with God) have been compounded by the application process. It forces me to confront all of my shortcomings. I suppose it highlights my successes too, but my successes seem so trivial. Yeah, I know, right now you're thinking my failures are trivial too. Of course they are. But I'm quasi-insane (reference the aforementioned troubles with God).

So what is the point of the Magical Mystery Tour of my application-soaked psyche? It hurts. Doing applications hurts me a lot. It's like going to the dentist for my soul. I know its a necessary evil but it hurts so badly. And the actual pain associated with it is minimal. The anticipation of the actual act, the decision, is what hurts so badly.

This melodramatic musing was brought to you by the UCs for having such stupid essay questions and women everywhere for putting me on the friends ladder.