At 3:00 this afternoon, I mailed 114 pages of funding application off to the UN Building in jo(e)'s Big City Like No Other. I cut it really close, considering the fact that it had to be postmarked today, and considering the fact that I didn't get the last recommendation until 2:46pm. And considering the fact that until this morning we hadn't heard back from the Doktorvater since he originally offered to be my Doktorvater, and we needed a faxed or emailed-as-pdf letter of invitation from him.
But it all worked out. That was the most perfect application I could send out, and now it's out of my hands. I've been actively preparing for this day for a solid year, and dreading it for longer, and now it's over. Well, except hopefully they give me money.
And now I won't do any more work for this whole long weekend. (Except for housework, as tomorrow is Let's Make the House Perfect Day.) In honour of Queen Victoria's birthday, I'll spend the long weekend read Jasper Fforde's The Eyre Affair. And eating ice cream sandwiches.