Best. Week. Ever. (Part II – UVA: “A-OK!” Yay!)

… I’ve been accepted early decision to my top choice law school! Virginia Law, here I come!

Getting my letter wasn’t nearly as exciting as the SCOTUS adventure. The previous Monday, I had found out by logging into the school’s online status checker that “a decision had been made” as of that day, and that the decision letter was on its way. Originally, I was banking on Wednesday (the same day as oral argument) being the day on which it would arrive.

After oral argument ended, I drove straight home. My eyes were beyond blurry and bloodshot, and given the increasing volume of snow coming down, my car needed to be somewhere else than the soon-to-be-gridlocked District. I pulled into the apartment building a little before one, and upon opening my mailbox, seeing no letter was no surprise. So I dragged my tired self upstairs, quickly shed my frost-covered clothes, and warmed up in the toasty embrace of a down comforter. Nervousness gave way to sleepiness the moment I shut my eyes. Three hours later, I took one look at the clock, quickly threw on some pants, and high-tailed down to the mailboxes, which are usually full by 4 p.m. I looked inside mine – damn, no letter. There goes my “best day ever” fantasy. December 5th was also the day on which Prohibition ended… guess the drinking in celebration/sorrow would have to wait.

The next 24 hours were agonizing. I would much rather have been surprised by the letter than told “It’s on its way!” with no definite indication as to when it would get there. Nothing else would get that darn letter off my mind: what did it say? What if I was deferred? Would I retake the LSAT? Would they reject me outright? Should I not have included those supplementary application materials? Arrrgg! Sleep that night didn’t come easy, and even a massive pile of work the next day didn’t distract me for more than a few moments. Finally, 4 p.m. rolled around on Thursday, and I couldn’t bear it any longer. I had to know.

I took the Metro home and went straight for the mailboxes upon entering the apartment building. See mailbox, insert key, turn… what? Seriously? No mail yet? Ice from the snowfall the day before probably delayed the mail truck. There wasn’t a thing to do but pace nervously around my room. A half-hour later, I went downstairs to find that our kindly older mailman was hard at work sorting the day’s mail. Hadn’t reached my mailbox yet. Nothing to do but pace some more. Finally, on my fifth pass by the mailroom, I saw that the mailman had finished with my section, and on opening my mailbox, the faintly orange envelope lay right on top.

This was it. Moment of truth. My breath caught in my chest as my heart began drumming. I rushed the letter along with the rest of the day’s mail to my apartment. Instead of a “welcome packet,” the letter was standard-size but felt a little thick, as though it contained not just one, but perhaps two sheets of paper. It even seemed to have an indent of a 3×5 notecard. No, no, don’t get your hopes up, I thought. You’ll know soon enough.

I flung open the apartment door, heaved the rest of the mail onto the dining room table, and took a short pause before opening the letter with a butter knife. There was a lulling sense of calm… this was no reject letter… I took a deep breath, removed the two-page letter, set aside the index card obscuring the first paragraph, and still holding that breath but smiling broadly, started to read…

I GOT IN!

Good thing my roommates weren’t home. They would surely have been jostled by a barrage of yells and hoots of a madman hightailing in circles around the living room. When I stopped shaking long enough to dial my mom’s cell phone number, she greeted the news with nearly the same level of excitement (though probably with less running). I had been accepted to my top choice law school, and I couldn’t have been happier. Eventually hysteria mellowed to wide-eyed contentedness. One of my friends at the law school asked that day, “How does it feel to be set for life?” Pretty damn good, I’d say.

So that’s the excessively detailed, boring story of how my dream of attending law school took its first substantial step toward becoming reality. One of my earlier posts detailed my near-giddy enthusiasm over the prospect of attending the school. There isn’t much more to say on the subject that wasn’t already said there. Talking with current UVA Law attendees and browsing the school’s website makes this warm-fuzzy feeling about being accepted even warmer and even fuzzier. It’s gonna be a great three years.

Seriously, best week ever.