Why are there men in white coats at my door?...

Do you ever have days when you think the universe is trying to tell you something? In my case, today, I think its screaming with a megaphone on full. It occured to me late last week that the next funding round at Creative New Zealand closes at the end of this week. I still dream of getting funding and of course one must have a ticket to win the prize. I'd been stalling a little because they said no to my last project but recently I've been cogitating on this hot new story thats been cartwheeling through the back empty spaces of my mind. The main fly in the ointment was that i didn't really have a ten page sample of the story to submit along with my application. Not one i was happy with anyway. But its a hot story! Okay this was probably when the universe was whispering to me. Then on the weekend I thought maybe I can supply a sample of my last completed work as a demonstration of my writing. Of course a sample of the work itself would be best but its not ready yet and you have to have your ticket....So today I've been having a go at filling in the online forms which you then have to save, print out and forward by post. Somehow having the forms online has not streamlined the process for me at all. If there are ways to edit the forms I haven't found them. Anyways, I did my best to fill the forms in, dutifully saved them, then began to print them out. But, um, when I tried to print out the budget section I got pages with only one line on them coming out and then subsequent pages were missing most of the info i'd input on the budget table sections. T'was very confusing. So I wasted some paper and in the end reverted to updating the budget from the last time I applied which took up one sheet and still looked pretty spiffy. The universe was getting kind of audible. Then I fixed up my CV, my one page project outline, and the alternate ten page writing sample which on its own clocked in at 12 sheets of paper (from the 2 + 2 = 5 school of mathematics). Then I pressed 'print'. I have now run out of paper half way through and the screams from the universe are pinning my ears to the sides of my head. Resistance is futile. Why am I doing this? Why are there men in white coats at my front door...