Tag Archives: job hunt


shaking the leg that’s attached to the foot, that’s perched on the c. 1901 wood floor, that’s supporting said leg and the other. I’ve prepared for the 11am interview as best I can–now all I have to do is stay awake until then. In about an hour and a half: send off 2017 email to Omitted (that I prepared an hour ago; tone veers tense, and rightfully so). Two hours ago: arrived from that city, where I spent the past two weeks glued to the slopes and off the screens and avoiding all work emails, especially the ones from the omitted who’s an asshat, who convinced my favorite person at work to leave, who may have also convinced me.

I am nervous for the interview, but confident that I’m (at least) within the top 3 on the list of ideal hires. I won’t look awake enough and this will work to my disadvantage. I’ll wear what I have worn to the interviews that have landed me jobs: a black shirt, a black sweater, black slacks, a colored pair of socks (tough shit if the color’s not their jam), a pair of shoes I like (that bring me closer to my ideal height, that are leather, laced and flat).

I spent the past week incredibly angry at Omitted (same instance as above). I shouldn’t be sending the email. I shouldn’t be acknowledging Omitted considering what Omitted’s been putting me through and what Omitted will put me through in 2017. I need the universe to toss me a loophole around this one, or a black hole and a little force. My sister tells me to plan for the worst, meanwhile I’ve only planned for what’s just a little worse than whatever’s transpired over the past few months. I told her that if it happens the way I think it might, that I’d tell everyone Omitted omitted, that I’d write a book about all the different ways he omitted as a way to keep track of the trajectory of the lie (that he omitted). I don’t know what I’m allowed to do and what I’m allowed to feel. My sister tells me I’ve assigned Omitted too much credit. I hesitate to believe her. I want to pretend the universe has something else in mind for us. I want to think Time has something else in store for us.

In around an hour: send the email. In around and hour and a half: leave for the interview.


on Ikea bookshelves x 3 on my FB feed and why was I on there and why are those high value books on such shit shelves? I built out the wall in my room with the same shelves and I’m an asshole for criticizing, but at least I spanned the pair with a desk console I built myself and the top of the bookshelves in order to frame out the window and reinforced the shelving with found L bracing that I reversed and–whatever–furniture is expensive and everything else is expensive and sometimes you just have to cut corners and sometimes the coincidence of the shelves + extension unit + extension unit matching the height of your room is just something you just fly with. I like how common it looks. But I’m not in that apartment and right now I hate how I feel (re Omitted and work and the future). I never once thought anything bad about him. That’s all I keep repeating in my head.

I’m not looking forward to returning to the city, going back to work on the 2nd, opening my mailbox to find two bills (electric, Internet), waiting for hot water to course through the radiators so that my apartment will feel like a greenhouse–before all that: taking the train to the apartment from the airport (I’ll probably take a cab instead). I am looking forward to the back and forth with Omitted (new instance) re interviewing them them. I’m just glad they read my resume and got back to me. The whole application process just reinforces that my skillset is bullshit and that I would’ve been better off if I had stayed in school, then stayed in school again.

I’m looking through our books and hating the time we spent together. I’m looking through our books wondering if they hate each other as much as you hate me. When it involves picking between doubles to read, I pick mine over yours. This makes me hate you less.