17
APPLY is not a good word to use in Wordle. It doesn’t rule out enough vowels, and it totally wastes a letter with the double
P. It would be stupid for me to use it as my first word this close to the end of my yearlong streak.
On Sunday morning, I use it anyway.
APPLY.
As in, I’m going to apply for a degree in museum studies today.
I researched it all night, after I got home from the museum. Apparently there are people called exhibition coordinators whose
entire job is to create museum exhibitions, just like I did at the barrel museum. When I think of spending my life building
places for people to learn, places that can give people that warm, quiet feeling that museums have always given me... it
feels perfect. It feels right.
I was planning to apply to ten or fifteen places in the United States and Canada, but then I saw how much it costs to apply
to university. A hundred and fifty dollars just to apply ? Who can afford to apply to more than one?
It’s taken several hours to narrow it down, but I’ve decided to apply for an MA in museum studies at NYU. The application
deadline is two days from now, which I think is a sign. I found this just in time.
I pour myself the world’s biggest cup of coffee and then knock out my entire application in one sitting. The hardest part is the personal essay. I want to gush about the feelings museums give me, the long circuitous journey I’ve been on to realize this is my dream job, and all my goals and aspirations for the future, but when I put it all down on paper, it just seems sort of cheesy and off-putting. I delete it all and try again. I lay out my interest in the degree in a plain, simple way and briefly describe my experience at the barrel museum and the success of our new exhibit. For my writing sample, I write a short essay on the value of rural museums.
I load in all the documents they ask for and then I reach the references page. Three letters are required. I bite my lip for
a long minute, then type three names.
Trey Fisher, Cooper, Waldon Museum of Barrel-Making.
He was the one who gave me this idea, and I’m sure he’ll be willing to do it.
Fred Martin, Owner/Manager, Martin Auto.
I’m less sure that he’ll be willing to be a reference, but I think he needs to be on the list, since he’s my current boss.
Jim Williams, Security Officer, Waldon Museum of Barrel-Making.
I’m a bit nervous to put Jim as a reference, but I don’t really have anyone else. Shelley would never agree to write me a reference (let alone a good one), Mrs. Finnamore doesn’t know how to use her computer, and Doris would probably write fifteen pages about how I don’t know how to use coupons properly. Jim knows how to use his computer reasonably well—his granddaughter taught him when she visited from Ontario—but submitting a reference letter through NYU’s online system might still be beyond him. And I’m not sure I can offer to help him. That seems ethically sketchy, like I’d be standing over his shoulder making sure he wrote good things.
Oh, well. This is a long shot anyway.
I pay my application fee—goodbye, eighty US dollars—and then reach the final page. I pace the kitchen for about ten minutes
before I work up the nerve to click submit.
An impersonal page thanks me for my application, and that’s it.
I did it.
I let out a shaky breath and start closing out all the tabs I’ve opened since I started this application—hundreds of Google
searches, my old university portal where I got all my transcripts, my online bank account, Jean Shorts Girl’s Instagram (don’t
judge, I needed a five-minute break)—beyond ready to stop staring at this damn computer screen. I’m about to close the final
one when something snags my eye. It’s a search result buried halfway down the page.
Internships | The Metropolitan Museum of Art.
I click it so fast I get dizzy.
Five minutes later, I’ve got another huge cup of coffee in hand (never mind that it’s nearly eight p.m.) and I’m starting
my application for a yearlong internship at the Met.
This, I know, is a real long shot. Almost entirely outside the realms of possibility. These internships are made for eager
undergrads just starting their first degrees, not auto shop receptionists whose greatest accomplishments are Wordle-related.
But it can’t hurt to try, can it? And the application is free.
When I finally step away from my computer two hours later, my vision has gone spotty from staring at the screen so long. I pick up my phone (yes, I know it’s a screen) to finish Wordle and catch up on the texts I’ve missed.
First, Wordle. APPLY got me a yellow A.
TIRED. As in, I am so freaking tired.
Oh, nice! The R, E, and D are all yellow.
A, R, E, D.
R, E, A, D.
READS. As in... if Emily READS anything else on her computer, her eyes will fall out.
Shoot. Nope. The S is wrong, the rest are all yellow.
DREAD. As in, I’m dreading waking up for work tomorrow.
D, R, E, and A are all green.
D, R, E, A.
DREAM.
The answer is DREAM.
As I watch the letters turn green, a little shiver runs up my spine.
This has got to be a sign.
I admire my streak count for a moment and then flip to my texts.
[1:00] Rose Fisher: Everyone at the grocery store is talking about how good yesterday was!
[1:01] Rose Fisher: Would you like to come for dinner at our place this Friday?
[3:] Fallon: Hey girl!! Amaaaazing new discount code on the website if you want to use (or promote)!
[3:] Fallon: Sending a link to your insta!
I shoot off a quick response to Rose, make a mental note to look at Fallon’s thing later, and then open up a text to John.
Things got so crazy at the end of the event yesterday with cleanup and thanking everyone for coming and trying not to be furious
when Shelley vanished without helping, John and I never really got another chance to talk before he left to have dinner with
his parents. I know he accepted my apology, but I still feel really bad about what happened.
[9:42]: Hey! Hope you’ve had a good Sunday.
[9:43]: Thanks for all your help yesterday!!
[9:43]: And sorry, again, for being such a douchebag ?
My phone dings as I’m pulling on my pajamas.
[9:49] John: lol
[9:49] John: no worries
[9:49] John: what’d you get up to today?
I start to type about NYU and the Met internship, then I stop. It feels a bit squicky to talk about dream job stuff after what happened yesterday.
[9:51]: Not much!
[9:51]: Just recovering from yesterday, really
[9:52] John: and plotting to overthrow Shelley, I hope
[9:52]: Haha
[9:53]: Yeah, I’m designing a new exhibit
[9:53]: Well, not so much an exhibit as a way to balance a barrel on Shelley’s office door so it’ll fall on her head when
she walks in
I add a row of evil smiley faces.
[9:54] John: lol
[9:54] John: I’ll help with that one
I pause, then type again.
[9:56]: See you tomorrow for Wordle?
[9:57] John: GREAT.
[9:57] John: ?
The smiley face sends a warm little fizz through my chest. My lips stretch into a smile.
[9:58]: Great. ?