"Thank you for your application…."

Heart drop. That little climactic moment when all your little fluttering hopes are suspended in time, just to be fully decimated by the next icy wave of dread and hopelessness.

In college, we're all overachievers. Just by virtue of having made it this far into the educational system, we've had to surmount obstacles and outpace many of our peers. And maybe I'm alone in thinking this way, but I was very much under the impression that college would open doors and build new pathways I hadn't seen before. But in many cases, paying that tuition and enrolling in college lets you see the doors in front of you, but still have them slammed in your face.

I was going to preach some rejection-doesn't-define-you, change-your-mindset common knowledge, but honestly, when I'm feeling down, I don't find any of that particularly comforting or helpful. So here are some actual, concrete things I've done to survive my never-ending season of rejection:

1. Watch 'FYRE: The Greatest Party That Never Happened' on Netflix

Watching a delusional vision for a festival turning into an outrageous failure of a fraud that hurt thousands of people and scammed millions of dollars really puts things into perspective. You realize that however gargantuan your own failures, at least they (hopefully) didn't disappoint a whole generation of festival-goers, bury you in several class action lawsuits, and destroy your reputation to the world and to history. Sounds terrible, but the magnitude of Billy & Co.'s blunders will probably make your own rejection feel a little less like the end of the world.

2. Watch Tidying Up with Marie Kondo (yes, Netflix again)

Whether your dorm room looks like the aftermath of a Category Seven hurricane (yes, I'm aware Saffir & Simpson didn't go that high up) or like the glorified version of a Muji catalogue, Marie Kondo can help you. Organizing and tossing things can be satisfying, but if you can't be bothered to extract yourself from your cocoon of wallowing self-pity, watching Marie Kondo do it is probably the next best thing.

3. Locate some friends and go out for food

Sometimes Netflix isn't enough comfort, so you need actual human beings to liven up your dismal day. Find those trusty friends who'll keep you grounded and drag them out to BCD or whatever snazzy food spot in LA you like (personal rec: Yellow House Cafe). Try to have your friends pay throughout the night, then Venmo them back at the end, because looking at prices could potentially induce more sadness (disclaimer: I am not encouraging fiscal irresponsibility, merely suggesting a brief break from counting dollars).

4. Pay the gym a visit.

If your academic or professional life currently isn't very fruitful, focus on your physical health. You may not be able to control the flood of rejection emails, but you can hit the gym and look good while reading those emails. At the very least, you'll have the extra endorphins to keep you company.

5. Surf the internet and do some (rational) online shopping.

The mind-numbingly massive array of things out on the internet is a great distractor (aka means of procrastination), which can actually be helpful in situations of rejection. I personally recommend putting things you like in your shopping cart, but refraining from checking out. Come back at a time when you feel less emotionally charged (aka less dejected), and your bank account might be a little less empty.

6. Sleep it off.

I know we often like to be melodramatic and say we're going to die, but perhaps try a more temporary option -- sleeping! Here you get the pros of being able to disconnect from the painful tragedy of reality, while still avoiding the cons of more dangerous and permanent options. Truly though, a solid nap can reinvigorate a mood (or at the very least, mitigate your sleep deficit).

Now, if you were looking for actual advice on how to deal with rejection, I apologize for disappointing. But if you were looking for something to do instead of moping in bed when you receive your next rejection email, you're very much welcome.