Someone in my cohort who is also waiting for tomorrow's email wrote this. I think it is phenomenal and I know many on here will appreciate it. She gave me permission to post it. Good luck to everyone and I hope some of you can appreciate this as much as the five of us applying from our program did!
The Night Before Match
By Anxious Applicant, MA
‘Twas the night before Match day, when all through the nation
Not an applicant was sleeping, they were just so impatient.
Their rankings were certified with obsessive care,
In hopes that National Match Service soon would be there;
The applicants were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of NMS e-mails danced in their heads;
And ignorant children and pets lay to sleep,
While not knowing their parents were in anxiety knee deep,
Then my phone began beeping with so much chatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to computer I ran like The Flash,
Tore open Explorer to see where I’d match.
The computer screen glowed like new-fallen snow,
Why the hell is my internet so frickin’ slow?!
When, what to my wondering eyes should I see,
But my network connection would not work for me!
A little red line over my net access wifi,
Oh, come on man, I am going to die.
More rapid than Roadrunner I unplugged my router,
That is the only way I know how to fix this matter.
“Aw come on! Damnit! What the hell?!
Why can’t this one time you just work for me well?!”
I swear and I curse, to the floor my mouse go,
By now all the other applicants are sure to know!
What am I thinking? This is not the only way,
To my bedroom, on the nightstand, is where my phone lay.
I open my email to see excessive clutter,
“No, I don’t want to meet hot singles,” I mutter.
But what, no e-mail, the one others have received,
At this point I feel more sick than just peeved.
To my junk mail I open, with a flurry I poke,
Come on, where are you, this is no frickin’ joke!
And then, a dazzling e-mail I do see,
The National Match Service has finally contacted me.
My hand hovered over the phone to open the mail,
“But what if I don’t match!” I soon begin to wail.
Alas, I cave, I must see, I must know.
This e-mail will tell me to which internship I’ll go.
I carefully re-read the very small print,
Around the apartment, the house, I do sprint.
The NMS says it is pleased to inform,
It seems on interviews that well I did perform.
An internship wants me, a good one I did catch,
Congratulations, to all, and to all a good MATCH!