Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Occasional cheques don't pay for organic groceries

I didn't get the job. The woman who did was a friend of someone with whom I'd worked and who had, a month earlier, been given the position for which I'd also interviewed.

Cursed luck! I'd be lying if I said I wasn't disappointed. I called Paul and rehashed my now familiar monologue about being a perpetual loser and destined to pick choice cuts from dumpsters. He calmed me down and told me he landed a job interview at a photography studio next week. Woohoo! That cheered me up.

So on the one hand, I am saddened by yet another rejection. On the other hand, I realize I am also being called in for openings through personal recommendations. I suppose that's progress.

I know both my former work colleague and her friend are more qualified for the jobs anyway. Furthermore, while I crave the atmosphere of a film set, I'm also aware that being a celeb personal assistant (even a big shot's) isn't the ideal route to that goal either (i.e. "Look but can't touch").

Oy! Underemployment is the insistent shit stain on my life. I feel like I can't move forward with other plans, while the alternative -- that is, looking back -- would only elicit dark thoughts.

I must confess, however, that being in a relationship lessens the burden. Remember how I used to complain about relationships hindering ambition? I've changed my mind. It is, in fact, the dating game that sucks up time easily spent being focused and clear-headed.

I was hanging out with Ray last night. He's one of my best buds. (Tall, handsome, and in med school. Ladies? He's single.) We were shooting the shit and I was describing to him the opposing positions Paul and I held in regards to the G20 clashes, when I blurted something out that caught even me off guard. I said that despite venting about Paul's failings (as, ahem, a sparring partner), "I'm gonna end up marrying him."

The words sort of lingered in the air like a laundry line, squeaking back and forth in perpetuity. Ray looked at me in disbelief. The truth is, if it happens, it happens. Paul and I have occasionally addressed it during commercial breaks for Rich Bride Poor Bride (he loves the scandal) and HGTV programming (ditto house hunting). It's a topic that is approached with an air of inevitability.

And that's comforting because it makes me put less pressure on myself to be achievement-orientated. Through stretches of poverty and missed opportunity, unemployment and lay-offs, we know this is as bad as its gonna get and there's nowhere to go but up.

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