My apologies. Anyway. It's been 2 and a half weeks since my fantastic interview, so I think I'm gonna go ahead and pronounce the time of death - Wednesday, March 29, 8:25 p.m. EST.
Naturally when one experiences the death of a loved one, whether the loved one be a person or just a dream, or maybe even a whiff of desperate hope clinging like toilet paper to the bottom of one's shoe, one is bound to start questioning one's life. You start wondering things like, "What the FUCK?!?" I mean, I walked out of that interview thinking that I nailed it; almost positive I was going to get an offer. And then...nothing. How does that happen? And I think you all know, I am not a confident person by nature. Even if I do well I'm pretty sure I suck. So how the hell did I not get this job, considering that by some fluke, some weird astrological alignment of the planets or some shit, I actually left the interview feeling good about myself and the world in general (which is most definitely not in my nature)?
The only thing I can come up with is that, as I mentioned before, they already had someone in mind they were going to hire, OR they liked me, but decided to hire someone with better qualifications, more experience, someone more to their ethnic preference, etc. etc.
I guess it doesn't pay to dwell on it. Except that coming to work everyday is now a literally painful experience and the thought of idling away the first couple years of my career in this insanely boring paraprofessional position is almost too much for me.
But I feel like I'm being a downer, so let's end this post with a happy thought: the only place to go from here is up.
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