I think that I’ve used up every bit of good luck and perfect timing that one is granted in a life time.

There was PLI, the job that I originally didn’t get, and then did get, and it was through there that I met everyone important for my rockstar year in the city.

There was the time I had to move out of my Astoria apartment, and a livejournal friend was moving into the city, and the timing was just Worked Out.

There was the eight and a half months of not driving, and stressing over rides, and while there were some bad days, for the most part, it just worked out, right when it needed to.

Hell, if you want to go even further back, I can name at least half a dozen moments and coincidences that gave me many bits of charmed life.

I have been very lucky.

Now, Keithers is scouring DC for an apartment for his second year at Georgetown, when the two of us thought that for sure, by now, we’d be able to look for a two bedroom together, but I’m no closer to a job than I was when we first start talking about this potential plan.

Now, I have an idea of A Plan, but no firm idea about the timing, and the ideas swirl around in my head and I can’t decide what to do, and every decision seems like the wrong one, because it leaves me here for another six months, at least, and I don’t know if I can do that. I mean, of course I CAN do that but it seems more and more daunting every day. And again, I wish all the jobs in DC could be in NYC. That would make things easier. (While I’m wishing for things I can’t have, I may as well go all the way)

Things are not bad now, in the grand scheme of things and all. But the little hits add up, and I just don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t control HR people canceling interviews I’ve specifically traveled to town for. I can’t change that one of my best friends is moving across the country. I can’t make there be more job postings. I can’t  help that the Cute-Shy-Boy couldn’t even be bothered after an awkward first date to say “no thanks,” to a second. I can’t control my first reactions to any of these things, but I can control my second thoughts, and despite the amount of whining and angst that appears in this space, I’ve been handling it remarkably well (I think). There’s room for improvement of course, but I think I have done well without sinking down into complete despair.

But it’s getting harder. I am still fighting the ennui (in fact, sometimes I am so far into my new-agey belief in the universe that the side of me that’s writing this would call that side delusional) but I’m starting to wonder: at what point do you just give up and concede that it’s just not going to work out as you hoped or planned, and that there’s nothing you can do about it? At what point do you admit defeat?

And then, what do you do next?