The interview

I had my film school interview Thursday at Tisch. The interview lasted a half hour in a conference room with three of the faculty.

I spent the day prior thinking about film school as a form of preparation. The morning of, I got a haircut, drank some tea, and ironed a dress shirt. Smoothing out wrinkles in fabric has always calmed me down, especially in silence so I can hear the muted hiss when the iron exhales an occasional puff of steam. I jotted down some thoughts in my journal, then bundled up for the walk to Tisch.

Despite all that, I didn't feel sharp in my interview. My mind seemed to take longer than usual to spin up every time I fielded a question. I walked out of the interview feeling dejected and didn't really process much of what I saw on a guided tour of the facilities. Outside, the snow had begun to fall thick and heavy. Perhaps the cold air unclogged my synapses, because during my twenty minute walk home I thought of a better answer for every question they asked me. I hate that feeling.

Perhaps I loaded the interview with too much significance. After all the time spent on the application, after moving all the way across the country and putting all my eggs in one basket, I couldn't stop thinking about the fact that everything came down to just this half hour in a conference room. Maybe it didn't, but it felt that way. Like playing poker and thinking about how much money you'll have to throw in to call or raise instead of what the odds are.

Feeling like I'd just vomited, I crawled into bed and took a nap when I arrived home. The month or so wait until a final decision will feel like an eternity. I was ready to ask for a decision right there in the room. I'm sure in a few days the feeling will pass as I find ways to distract myself.