If at first you don't succeed, don't reach for the whiskey

My final semester at the local CC is drawing to a close.  I am finishing up my last project and have two more class meetings before I am done.  I was hoping to get into the local U's art program, but I got the rejection letter yesterday.  I cried - because I was disappointed and because my brain wouldn't shut up about how this was just one more reason I wasn't good enough.  I hate it when my brain works against me.

My first impulse was to immediately text some friends, tell them my bad news, and beg for them to bring me whiskey so I could get all sh!t-faced to properly mourn my ruined plans.  Luckily, the impulse was overridden by my desire to not add depressants to my depression.  I knew I felt crappy, and I also knew that drinking would only make me feel more craptastic than I felt being sober.  Sober wins!

Instead of drowning my sorrows in alcohol, I drowned them in sugar.  And comedies.  And a good friend who came by to talk at me until I could beat down the worst part of the funk.  

plus

plus

= funk buster

Where do I go now?  Plan D.  I'm trying for the same U, but a different program.  Maybe then I can laterally transition into the art program.  At the very least, I am back to the basics of the original plan:  get my undergraduate degree.  

I will still paint and draw, because I love it, and because I'm good at it.  I can only get better if I continue to work.  And if Plan D falls through, I will move on to Plan E.  Hell - there are 26 letters in the alphabet, plus 10 number symbols.  With those, plus doubling, there are at least 54 more plans I can roll through before I have to resort to some other alphabet and/or counting system.  

Life isn't fair and you can't always get what you want.  But you keep trying.  And save the whiskey for a celebration.