The Intangible Hand Playing The Drum Machine

I have no bloody idea how I am going to make sense of that one.

With the letters I received from the university yesterday, my current plan of action appears rather brittle. As esoteric as it sounds, it feels like all of this was pre-sequenced and the tune is playing just the way it should be. The intangible hand of the forces above playing the drum machine.

On one hand, I could always wait for the university to re-evaluate my file (which "might or might not have been put on hold") all the while organising everything to move to Montreal for this coming january. If university craps out on me, then I'm in the city with no real goal and probably no real means either.
Upside: Leaving home, taking off.
Downside: I could easily mess up with so little safety margin and have to come back home (again).

On the other hand, I could follow what was the original plan, that one being going back to school in september 2005. I would apply in visual arts (you know, a real program, where i'll be able to work in sculpting and installation and medias and all that stuff) and film again, probably. I would take the time between now and march to create a killer portfolio, one that will make the evaluators go "DAMN! We have to have that kid". Paralel to that, I would start looking for a new job, a full time one, and save money. Also, I would work on my music and my guitar learning.
Upside: If well orchestrated, an excellent springboard and safetynet.
Downside: Staying home until next summer.

Understandably, there is no clear answer to this problem. No obvious way out. Yet another thing I have to figure out. Of course I want to leave here and experience a new life as soon as possible. At the same time, I really don't want to have to crawl back home, wings burned again. I want to have it so that when I leave, I will have left. No coming back (not coming back to live, I mean).

I am allowing myself a couple of days to decide which way to go. There'll be casualties whichever road I take. Damn.

Oh, I almost forgot. The datestamp on the letters from the university coincides with the day I woke up feeling my admission had been denied.