I wanted to apply for another postgrad programme. My research project being sort of I have a shitload of material, I intend to deal it in this and that way but I'm not sure what would the endpoint be, it took me around a month before I gathered courage and mailed the potential supervisor. There was no reply within a day or two so I was nervous but I thought, I need to submit the application by next Friday, no biggie.
A day later, I saw him on TV, talking from Benoît-sur-Loire, France, where he's with his students on a field trip and they intend to walk (yes, WALK) to Mont Saint Michel... so I sighed that, well, I can't possibly discuss the stuff with him, let's apply without prior approval. It can be done but I'd feel more comfortable if I had the project okayed beforehand.
On I went to the university website to fill in the forms. I had noted down that the deadline was May 12. Twice. It shows that this was the deadline for delivering hard copy documents, not for the application itself, which I found by finding the online forms unavailable.
I got all the bad emotions at once. Cursed myself for not being able to read, I was sad because I'd like to get to that department and then I plainly freaked out because I do such stuff. However, I decided to try and abuse a possibility. I saw a lady from the office for students with special needs last week who was very nice so I thought, after all, I have ADHD in my papers so I may play the I can't read because reasons card. I mailed the lady and asked whether something can be done. She told me to contact Dr. So-and-So, head of the admissions office, she might know about a solution.
I made a cup of coffee and called the admissions lady. She was also very nice, told me to send a request for extending the deadline, letter, not mail, please, adding that the dean doesn't make a fuss about the postgrad students, it will likely be granted and I'll get a bill for admission fees and further instructions, no worries.
I had a bit of hard time to find out how to write formal letters, I've been living in an email time for too long but at the end, I put something together, I explained how I misread the instructions without going into depths of how I cannot read and I'm just a waste of oxygen.
Things are odd. I had a meltdown. I called an unknown person of authority - as in, called on a phone, in circumstances when I had to explain that I made rather a dumb mistake. I didn't worry about it for a month. I do not feel like a waste of oxygen. I'll see where this goes.