I did two things in the past two days which qualify me, in my mind, as braver than usual. They're little things, and the average person wouldn't consider them brave. God forbid I be average.

One has to do with my internship applications. I'm giving myself one last chance to apply for an APA-accredited internship so that I can get my doctorate and be done with it. The first year I went through this, I withdrew my applications in the eleventh hour because I decided that it was more important for me to stay home with my kids. The second year, I got universally rejected by every site I applied to, because I decided it was more important for me to stay home with my kids. It's been rough on ego and bank account and self-concept. Yet I seem to have survived, so what the heck, let's do it again!

I rewrote my applications, with the help of dear and trusted friends, and have been waiting on a few pieces of documentation (recommendation letters and the like) so that I can put them in the mail and pretend not to obsess for the next four months until I finally get a response.

The brave thing was, I took my list of sites to whom I was planning on sending applications, and I culled that list from 17 to 7. The prevailing wisdom seems to be, apply to as many places as possible and deal with the logistics after you get an interview and, eventually, a placement. That's what I did the first two years, with something less than stellar success. This time I decided that I would only be miserable if I had anything above a 90-minute commute (of course, I could be miserable anyway, but I was CERTAIN I'd be miserable if I combined a 50-60 hour work week with 20 hours of commute time). So I played with mapblast and got rid of a bunch of places. It's scary, and the compulsive part of me wants to send out apps everywhere since I already have all the addresses and everything... but I feel much better about the decision now. Which must mean it's the right one.

Right?

Riiiiiiight.

Anyway. The other brave thing happened this afternoon. I'm up in the White Mountains, north of North Conway, for a conference for work (which will get its own entry... suffice it to say that I am baffled when people assume that mental health workers have any idea what it means to be sane). I had some alone-time this afternoon, and so I took a walk. In the woods. By myself.

Only those who know me very well will know why this was a big deal. Just, trust me. It was.

And I was okay.

Go, me.