I am listening to the Kelly Clarkson song “Already Gone.” Every time I hear it, I wonder what my life would have been like if The Ex and I had broken up at the end of high school instead of making it almost all the way through college. Because that’s really what I want to be thinking of a Sunday morning.

I’ve mostly spent the weekend angsting over my application. This fellowship is the first thing I have wanted — really, really wanted — in a very long time. Yes, I wanted my current job – I wanted it to go from temp to perm, but if it hadn’t, it would have been due to bureaucratic issues and no reflection on my worth. Plus, there wasn’t such uncertainty – I knew I was doing a very good job, I knew my boss liked me, and so I wasn’t afraid to basically demand the company hire me. (In retrospect, I don’t know when/how I decided to grow a spine, or where that spine has gone since then)

Here, I have no idea if I’m doing a good job on the application. I have no idea if I am what they are looking for. I have no idea how I match up against other candidates.

I’m not good at admitting when I want something. But good lord, I want this. I want this because it would be my dream job in every sense of the word. I want this because it would force me to live in DC, the city I have refused to move to because it’s not New York, but would probably hold much better career opportunities than New York ever could. I want this because although I like my job I don’t want to be here the rest of my life. I want this because I need to get out of suburban Jersey.

I want this. And that in of itself is pretty terrifying to me.