Who you tryin' to get crazy with, essay?

...oh, the humor that just spills from my fingers. Or rather, it's about hour 27 of trying to write this damn essay and each draft seems cheesier and less like me than the last. I've always been terrible at the personal statement, I think for several reasons: 1. I usually don't think much about the things I do, I just do them - so it's difficult to talk about how I've wanted to let's say be a lawyer forever when in reality it just occurred to me, likely over drinks, that it would probably be a good idea. 2. I can be embarrassingly sentimental at times --if you, dear one reader, only knew some of the commercials that make me teary eyed, you would be mortified on my behalf -- and although I'm sincere, it doesn't translate well, rather it sounds like I'm a normal human being making up ridiculously sentimental things because I think an admissions board will like them. 3. In my 'normal' job I've been trained to write in a very pointed, direct, and frankly, dumbed-down style. This was a vast improvement over the academic style to which I'd been accustomed (where one goes hunting through the ol thesaurus for even more obscure terms), and I like to think I've gotten pretty good at it. Problem is when one of these essays comes along, it's hard to break the executive style habit and I tend to write how I speak which is in very long, drawn out sentences with lots of caveats and many a tangent before a loooong overdue period, or heck, maybe even only a semicolon. It's actually hard to get at what I'm trying to convey in some of my sentences for all the hairpin turns I force the reader down. So I sit here, and it's pouring something fierce outside, and Bub is lonely in NY and I'm lonely here but I've got to finish this and I've got to start remembering the next time I think sending out lots of applications with essays attached is a good idea, I should probably have another Jameson.