E-mail sent. Let the obsessing over whether he will reply commence. Actually, it began 12 hours ago.

The Smoker that I went out with over a week ago sent me a barrage of text messages on Saturday night, in which he did not identify himself, but I knew it was him based on what he said, and the fact that the number he was texting from has the same first 6 digits as his phone number. (So probably another phone on a family plan, or something). They were a little bit creepy and definitely, I thought, over dramatic.

And now, I’m hiding out on “invisible” mode on gchat, because Polite Boy has been irritating me, even though I get the impression that he does not like me. As I mentioned, he has never been on a job interview (gotten jobs via nepotism) yet he feels that he is qualified to offer lots of advice, and question my methods. He also told me that he is “not used to girls who have political opinions.”  This partially supports my arrogant suspicion that he was intimidated by me. Whatever.

And, speaking of job interview, (or job hunting) David is currently lamenting his rejection from a Perfect Job, and his description of the pain and uncomfortableness of this particular rejection hits way too close to home. I know it well. Both of us are, on paper, completely fucking useless. It’s a hard thing to be reminded of, time and time again, because even when you get over the initial sting of the rejection, it isn’t something you have the ability to change much. It isn’t possible to go back in time, and mold ourselves into something different on paper.

And, so it is Monday. Time to go compose more cover letters for jobs I don’t have a chance from hearing from. I don’t mean to be all gloomy and pessimistic, but it’s fairly easy to be this morning.