Semiprofessional Job Applicant

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Do you remember applying for college? Or, colleges-s-s-s-s, as it were? First it was undergrad and then, if you were an idiot like me, graduate school?

Do you remember the relief you experienced when you learned the status of your application(s)? Learned your fate? Learned that you were either accepted or *GULP* rejected?

Remember that?

Totally awesome, right?

Did you know then, though, what you know now? Specifically, that you’d continue to experience a never-ending cycle of relief followed closely by either disappointment or heightened anxiety (if you’re me, of course) with each and every job application-slash-interview-slash-onboarding cycle? Did you know that the conclusion of the college application process isn’t a conclusion at all really, but instead just the beginning of a long, slow march preparing you for retirement and death?

OK, that was a bit dramatic, but not too far from the truth. Am I wrong?

To wit (and I’m talking primarily about the price of security being insecurity here), I’m starting to feel like a semiprofessional job applicant.


Oh, and! I don’t know if this is a good thing.

I know it’s not a new thing, but I don’t know if it’s necessarily a good thing.

It’s just, uh, a thing.

I guess.

Like a OCDC s*** thing, but, still, a thing.

Perhaps this is a millennial thing or a Gemini thing or a (hashtag) FOMO thing. I don’t know.

All I know is I have a problem. But they say admitting as much (i.e. that you have a problem) is the first step.

So there’s that.

Bottom-line: I am insecure. I hate being unhappy. I hate not being awesome at stuff. I am anxious nearly all the time. Honestly. I dare you to try to catch me calm.

I’d like to blame my upbringing or genes or personality, but let’s just face it: I’m defective.

I want to pour myself into something (or pour myself something). But I know self-medicating with work (or alcohol) isn’t the answer; yet, I am always back here at square one asking, what will make me happy?

My answer? Nothing. So, I’m going to pour me a stiff one and get to work. Um, not in that order, but…

whatever. See you in CA where I’ll continue to run, write, publish, work, work, and work until the cows come home.