it was a night for Bright Eyes
It's a day and five hours after I wrote the following on the busride home. I am much less distraught now, but I thank you for your condolences in advance.
_
I didn't get it.
The Foundation couldn't wait for me to graduate, and I can't graduate early. Now I get to send a "Thank You for Your Time and Not Hiring Me" card, and continue an internship for which I am no longer receiving credit, while a stranger fills the position I was mostly perfect for.
I am trying to find the irony in losing a job promoting education due to my own educational committments, which are being paid for by the organization by which I was rejected. Unfortunately my sense of humor fails me.
It is a consolation to know that more than a few people will be disappointed by my absence. I am viciously confidant that there is noone on earth with my experience - in publications, education and organizational, heavy with passion and familiarity. My vindictive shadow laughed as I left that the new hire would fail, but with my morality and for the sake of The Foundation I smothered this sentiment.
It is a relief this afternoon that the commute is so long, as crying comes of it's own will. Not gushing, not weeping, but irritating sporadic wellings of disappointment.
I wondered, in Val's office after the news, alone at the window with the door shut, if I'd created a passion to justify the position, or if the job had found a passion in me. If the passion - of promoting self-worth via higher ed - is true, I would be a coward to not pursue it in unfamiliar venues. But I don't know whether I will or not.
I feel lost again, as when I was rejected from my major due to my distractions and prior committments. This position was so obvious for me that it's not as if a door has been closed, but a bridge has been removed. I can't even see to move forward, can't imaging my direction. And I don't want to endure the job search or any more rejetion. To have been monumentally rejected once was a shock, the predictable wake-up call, useful in nostalgia and journal entries, motivation to study abroad and find onesself. But twice, the feeling is uncomfortaby familiar. The certainty of having been wronged by ill-judging superiors is faded now, on par with the terrifying self-doubt that I really am justifiably rejectable.
It is of course justifiable. It is an unfortunate technicality a logistical misfortune, a scheduling problem for which I was denied. They need an employee, and until June I am a student. Val said I was otherwise impressive, they were "blown away" by my application or cover letter or whatever. But! If, regardless of my qualifications, I would be without question ineligible due to my unavailability, why did they winkingly encourage me to apply? To be suited so well for something and lose it on a superficial conflict is worse than to be denied for a job which you know you are unqualified. It's like losing something I have a certain right to, and inheritance.
I have to finish intermission tonight. I am very unenthusiastic. But I have also not eaten today, so if Brian brings me ice cream I will cover it in justifiable fudge.
Next week, perhaps, as Val suggested behind her closed door, we will sabotage the new hire.
-
So, an update, and I am in a new day. I am done crying, though not done being dissapointed, intermission is beautiful this week, even if crowded, and Brian did bring me ice cream, without me even asking. I also had a good day in my painting class, my professor pointing my work out as interesting, and Anne Taylor had a big sale so I have a cute jacket. Sarah, you would like it. (I'm jst assuming you're reading. Thanks for the text message ... the interview did go amazingly well, despite the end result.)
_
I didn't get it.
The Foundation couldn't wait for me to graduate, and I can't graduate early. Now I get to send a "Thank You for Your Time and Not Hiring Me" card, and continue an internship for which I am no longer receiving credit, while a stranger fills the position I was mostly perfect for.
I am trying to find the irony in losing a job promoting education due to my own educational committments, which are being paid for by the organization by which I was rejected. Unfortunately my sense of humor fails me.
It is a consolation to know that more than a few people will be disappointed by my absence. I am viciously confidant that there is noone on earth with my experience - in publications, education and organizational, heavy with passion and familiarity. My vindictive shadow laughed as I left that the new hire would fail, but with my morality and for the sake of The Foundation I smothered this sentiment.
It is a relief this afternoon that the commute is so long, as crying comes of it's own will. Not gushing, not weeping, but irritating sporadic wellings of disappointment.
I wondered, in Val's office after the news, alone at the window with the door shut, if I'd created a passion to justify the position, or if the job had found a passion in me. If the passion - of promoting self-worth via higher ed - is true, I would be a coward to not pursue it in unfamiliar venues. But I don't know whether I will or not.
I feel lost again, as when I was rejected from my major due to my distractions and prior committments. This position was so obvious for me that it's not as if a door has been closed, but a bridge has been removed. I can't even see to move forward, can't imaging my direction. And I don't want to endure the job search or any more rejetion. To have been monumentally rejected once was a shock, the predictable wake-up call, useful in nostalgia and journal entries, motivation to study abroad and find onesself. But twice, the feeling is uncomfortaby familiar. The certainty of having been wronged by ill-judging superiors is faded now, on par with the terrifying self-doubt that I really am justifiably rejectable.
It is of course justifiable. It is an unfortunate technicality a logistical misfortune, a scheduling problem for which I was denied. They need an employee, and until June I am a student. Val said I was otherwise impressive, they were "blown away" by my application or cover letter or whatever. But! If, regardless of my qualifications, I would be without question ineligible due to my unavailability, why did they winkingly encourage me to apply? To be suited so well for something and lose it on a superficial conflict is worse than to be denied for a job which you know you are unqualified. It's like losing something I have a certain right to, and inheritance.
I have to finish intermission tonight. I am very unenthusiastic. But I have also not eaten today, so if Brian brings me ice cream I will cover it in justifiable fudge.
Next week, perhaps, as Val suggested behind her closed door, we will sabotage the new hire.
-
So, an update, and I am in a new day. I am done crying, though not done being dissapointed, intermission is beautiful this week, even if crowded, and Brian did bring me ice cream, without me even asking. I also had a good day in my painting class, my professor pointing my work out as interesting, and Anne Taylor had a big sale so I have a cute jacket. Sarah, you would like it. (I'm jst assuming you're reading. Thanks for the text message ... the interview did go amazingly well, despite the end result.)