And so I'm off to go make a phone call about another job while trying not to think about being rejected for a different one today. Oh, am I disappointed? Well sure I am, because after all, what else could this dude have wanted—I mean, aside from say the experience that I really had being a stretch in comparison to what the job entailed. But I mean, shove all that to the side and I was a perfect fit.
Really.
OK, I'm not really all that torn up because the office was pretty small and the four or so employees there were there weren't very chirpy, you could say. The ex seemed to think that somehow translated to it being a "perfect fit" for me, but the fuck if we're putting much faith in what she thinks is good for me these days. Her suggestion, however, of nice paper for the resume was actually a good idea.
Truth be told, I haven't written much about my "job hunt" here in some
And while these past few weeks since the community restitution wrapped up could be seen as relatively fruitless, I'm still retaining a bit of optimism when my day begins with the e-mail about an offer not being extended and yet I'm already following through on Plan B, setting up Plan C, not ruling out Plan D and then answering the phone and readjusting everything once more.
I've read or heard enough troubles with the current job climate to know that there's many people worse off than me, most of whom would kill for what passes as "my problems." So I shrug off this latest dead end, think of it as having been another opportunity to master my response to the typical "Tell me a little bit about yourself," and go on with a holiday weekend where the real fireworks probably won't even happen on the Fourth.
Kaboom, bitches.
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