Tuesday, November 23, 2010

A Watched Pot

My Beloved hands his phone to me as he leaves the house. He is going to get money to pay the lawnmower men and buy comfort food as he is all un-good about not hearing about whether or not he got into his course.
Pretty much as soon as he is out of the door his phone starts ringing.
I glare at it.
I am all distracted and less for answering his phone, however I am incapable of letting a phone ring in case it is something VERY VERY important.
I decide to look at the caller ID to check if I can be bothered. Gotta love how phones now tell you who is calling. I am not nostalgic for the old phones that do not have this function.
It is an 03 number.
And then there is a 5 number.
And that means that it is a number from country Victoria.
And that means that it is very likely from the Medical School.
And if they are ringing it is probably to tell my Beloved that he has been accepted. I decide that it is very likely that this is, indeed, a VERY VERY important call and I do not know why this was not my first thought when his phone started ringing.
-Beloved! Beloved! I bellow.
With the phone in one hand and the baby over my shoulder I run to the door and try to catch up with him. I am afraid the ringing will stop before I reach him, so I stop and answer the phone. Gulp.
And the young girl calling was all like is blah blah blah there and I have to say no, he just went out, he’ll be back soon though – can I take a message. The lawnmower men were very loud and I was walking out the door to see if he was still there but the space where his car should be was empty. And of course no, they will not leave a message.
So they say they will ring back and I ask if he can ring back because I am less for waiting (any more) for the phone to ring. And they say yes, and give me the number, which I of course ignore because it is now in the phone.
He is likely in. And… And.. And… Hysteria is all bubbly inside me. Wow. Yay. Yayness.
I am going to be (probably) Mrs. Doctor Dear just like Anne of Green Gables.
If my hair would turn red, life would be perfect.
There is always dye.
I walk outside. I walk inside. I need to tell someone or the top of my head will pop off with all the fizz. But there is no one to tell and we don’t know for sure yet and…
Why did he go out now!
Of course, if he had not gone out now, and if he had taken his phone, I am sure they would not have phoned, because a watched pot never boils.
I lose the phone. I re-find the phone.
I decide to walk down the street to meet him. I start walking, with Poppet over my shoulder and the phone clutched in my hand. 
It is very strange knowing that I will remember this walk in detail for the rest of my life. That the sky is grey and the weather muggy because there is a storm coming. That there are orange flowers and birds in the park and the Poppet is wearing a white and pink cotton sleeveless, legless onesie with pink ribbon on it.
I reach the end of the road and do not see the car coming and I am not good at waiting. 
I pace.
I see the car coming and my beloved stops and I see from his face that he does not realize why I am there, which I find amazing.
I thrust the phone at him.
-It was a 03 number. I’m fairly sure it was the uni. They wouldn’t leave a message.
And his face just changes.
-Get in
-No, no, I can’t. No baby seat. You can call from here.
-No credit.
So he takes the phone and drives back down the street and I think. O. By the time I get home we should know.
I have to take many big breaths and tell the Poppet all about what a momentous occasion it is.
As we reach home my beloved comes running towards us. But it isn’t written across his face whether he’s really in or not.
-So? Are you in? I yell.
He doesn’t reply. Then he starts doing giant moon leaps. And then pirouettes.
I take it he is in.
And soon he reaches me.
-I’m in.
And we start kissing in the street and Poppet is amazed.
This is the culmination of…
3 months of prep for an exam.
An 8 hour exam.
A Multiple-Mini-Interview.
A flight interstate for the interview.
A couple of months of jumping every time the phone rings.
Several thousand hours of waiting. And way over-analysing. And waiting.
Many bitten nails. 
And now we know.
And we have 7 weeks to move intestate.
And we will be students for four years.
Or my Beloved will be.
This has been his dream for years, and now he’s finally getting it.
And I am so so happy.

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