Hi lovelies,
At the end of last year I had a lot going on. It was the eleventh hour for me, or at least it felt like it was. My internship was drawing to a close, my friends were getting hired left and right, and I was reading away in a freezing conference room, certain I would be the one called next, hoping that when I returned to the city after a holiday at home I would be returning to a job. That was the ideal image in my mind, but seldom is reality that convenient. The holidays passed and I returned to that conference room, where it seemed like everyone else was receiving good news. Everyone but me.
But again, seldom is reality that convenient. I couldn't just sit there and panic about my future, because I wasn't alone in that room. Beside me were other fantastic candidates from my intern class, and every time I'd glance over at them I would wonder, "Why are we still here? I mean, I wrap my mind around ME not getting snatched up yet, but YOU GUYS, TOO?" For every time that I wanted to scream or cry or hyperventilate, I didn't. It would have been selfish, and it would have shown that I was learning nothing. Because as frustrated and pissed off and defeated as I was, I also knew the merits of the people in that room with me. People I believe deserve amazing careers in publishing. People I believe were passed up by absolute fools. If I'm sitting with those people, then I should try to believe the same of myself, right?
I don't talk a lot when I'm panicking, because panic is contagious. Like yawning and projectile vomiting. It's just not a good idea to start doing it. So rather than letting that panic spread into my writing and subsequently onto this blog, I thought it best to keep my trap shut. And then my Dad asked when I was going to post again.
So here's a post for you, Dad.
The theme is that nothing is quite so awful when you're not alone as you're going through it. I hope we all know this. I mean, I knew this before this horrific hiring experience, but it's good to be reminded every so often. If I didn't have the support of friends and family, old and new, well... maybe I would have still made it this far, but I would be a terrible human being. I never want to be a version of me without the warmth and love that I'm lucky to receive from all of you.
This is also for you, Mom.
My Mom flew out to NYC for a workshop at Columbia's Teacher's College, because she is incredible and dedicated and a fantastic leader. She also got here about a week after I'd been turned down from one job and bombed an interview for another because I'd had a hundred degree fever and brought up piranhas for no apparent reason. My intern class had dwindled and I'd been starting to think, what if I can't make it? What if I don't get hired anywhere? What happens if I have to move back to Seattle? My poor, sweet mother. I got home from a long and brutal Friday, full of anxiety and rejection, and she opened up my apartment door and said, "Welcome home!"
And I burst into tears. Partly because of the pressure from what was going on in my life at the time, but also because that's the first time someone has been waiting for me to come home in so, so long. I mean, I like living alone for the most part, but this sweet and simple action completely unmade me. Yep. It might be time for roommates. Or at least a cat. Ten cats?
Anyway, here I am, about to start a new job at a Big Six. When a door this big opens, I have to glance back for a second before I walk through. If you'd told me I'd be here a year ago, I wouldn't have believed you. Mostly because I'm just starting to learn how to believe in myself. But I think a big part of learning that is trusting and believing in the people around you.
I'm going to go be posh and work next door to Rockefeller Center now. Wish me luck!
