It’s officially a month, though it feels like a lifetime.
Over fifty applications, resumes, individual cover letters composed. Applying for jobs takes a piece of you. If it doesn’t, you’re doing it wrong. I think finding a career is like finding a mate for life. Knowing that most millennials will have three-four careers in their lives, and not just the one as our grandparents did, is even more difficult because we need three-four soul mates. I don’t even want to see the statistics or numbers.
The worst part of this process is the non-responsive nature of this search. Since September 19th I have had one rejection and one awkward and unexpected (direction wise-like I am not even sure why they bothered scheduling an interview) interview. It’s not a mental environment one can thrive in. Many, give up. They decide going through the pain of applying for something that will never be theirs is simply not worth it. My mind doesn’t really work like that though, and I need to find my place.
I am not the sort to settle; I could never be accused of settling.
The break-up hasn’t been easy either. I am not sitting around brooding or crying but I am sad. Just last night driving back from the orchard I was thinking about how more than anything I liked talking to Matt. Not having him around to have a conversation with is…lonely.
On the converse I like being alone. I like eating odd combinations of food for dinner and not having to feel any obligation romantically. It frees me up to read my books or sit on the couch and watch Criminal Minds for four hours. Not that Matt and I didn’t watch Netflix, but as far as relationships go I think comedian Aziz Ansari is wrong. We went to see him on his Modern Romance tour and he ascertained that a couple’s ability to have Netflix, and binge watching your favorite shows is the pinnacle of a relationship. For a comedy bit, it works. But it is no where near as simple. There is more tied up into the romantic relationship that a comedy routine can’t and won’t entail. Oh how I wanted sharing a space and watching hours of other peoples imaginations play out on the television to be enough, though, but it wasn’t.
I think the hardest part about both processes is that I know myself better, now. It’s hard to be fully myself and be lost at the same time. I am always learning, and thus I suppose I am always going to be learning new things about myself. One of those things, this year, is that I can now recognize who I am supposed to be. It makes me strong but it also makes the rest of life extremely difficult, because I think the mistakes people make are the building block of self. Those mistakes get bigger and more complex as you complete the picture. It’s also incredibly painful to have patience with those still in the blueprint phase. We are all builders at different speeds. Nearing completion is like a second sight and because it broadens and narrows simultaneously, it is a burden.
Someone will hire me, but I don’t know when or where. I realized in the middle of this process while I was concurrently planning for the here and now, that I can go anywhere. That being single means singular and I can flit to wherever my heart and talents take me. Fresh out of school I needed the credentials to fly. Once I was gathering them, I was tied by a relationship. Now, I am free.
It’s not that I have 100% given to fail quickly on school, because I didn’t fail. I succeeded emphatically at school. It was the situation surrounding school that wasn’t working. I can’t tell you that I will go back. What I can tell you is that what seems logical has changed. Now, I feel like paying off my student loan is the wise choice. To do this I need a career. To do a career I want to choose/and be chosen wisely.
Employers think they are doing the choosing, but sometimes we choose them just as much as they choose us. There is a pool of talented intelligent people who won’t take what’s given but forge a path to get where they want to go. It’s a thing to be revered.
I need that serendipitous interview.
“When I discover who I am, I’ll be free.”
― Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man