You wouldn’t know it from my entries but I start each day with optimism. I wake up, brew a travel mug of coffee, and I drive to work with a good attitude about my hours in front of me. By now, I recognize that this optimism is unsustainable; despite my better efforts, it’s often gone by 11 AM.

Today was no different, except I’m writing this at 9:20 am, and won’t be able to post until later because OUR INTERNET IS DOWN. I don’t know what the issue is; internal stuff is working fine.

(this happened once at PLI and I wrote this post about how I wanted time to slow down anyway. I know it is terribly unhealthy the way I envy the girl who wrote that, but I do)

I don’t understand how our IT department cannot solve this, as it has been down for 90+ minutes.

[ok. Internet is back. Thank god]

And apparently, my optimism is crushed once I check my email and find no response from jobs or boys.  I don’t understand boys. I really don’t.  I mean, I would never describe myself as “hot.” But I’ve always been confident in the fact that I’m quite passably cute. But with this online dating thing, are they fleeing based on my Facebook photos? Evidence seems to suggest this is possible. Evidence also seems to suggest I am neurotic and over think things. However, given that NOTHING has worked out in the past 7+ months, maybe I have even more flaws than I realized, and I’ve just been walking around in this haze of self-deception.

At this point, anything thing is possible.

Every single morning, I wake up, believing that this could be the day. The job offer might come (which now has dissolved to “maybe I’ll get an interview…” and finally “maybe they’ll be something worth applying to posted.” Or, I might actually hear back from someone in my (admittedly small) network. Or maybe just SOMETHING good, something that is going to move my life forward will happen. Today could be the day.

I think this every single morning. It’s in my head from the minute I wake up. It’s in every song I skip or linger on my iPod shuffle. Every single day, there is a part of me that genuinely believe today is when it will finally happen.

 And every single day, for the past 6+ months, I’ve been wrong.

I’ve tried really hard to be happy (or at least “okay”) with the seemingly neverending string of disappointments. I really do try. I constantly remind myself of the good in my life and how things are not as bad as they could be. But those mind tricks are becomming less and less effective every day. I could give it a rest, sure. I could stop looking for the summer, try to relax and have fun, but what good will that do me? I will still be HERE in September, a place that I started to put together an escape plan from almost ten months ago.

And June is already half over. Time is moving at a ridiculous pace; and it’s such a valuable resource, and despite all my efforts, I’m losing it.

I had another post about how my weekend was (gym 2 times!) and the waiting, but then I got an answer on one of my jobs that I was waiting on and I didn’t feel like writing anymore.

I applied for and got a phone interview for another Libertarian Job and got the email today that I was not accepted for another round of interviews.

For all the frustrations, even going back to the Libertarian Fellowship, this rejection is the one that has set me off.

I am so unbelievably angry and frustrated and upset. I am to the point where I am personalizing the rejection, even though I know that is absolutely irrational. I am in this head space where I am MAD at these organizations, who are made up of all these people who were probably outcasts in high school and are now reveling in being totally exclusive. In fact, I even wrote a few years ago about how libertarians don’t really want to spread the movement. We [They] like being tiny and exclusive; there’s a sense of pride about it. And so basically, I am NEVER going to break in. I’d have had a greater chance of being asked to sit at the popular girls table in middle school.

I know this sounds terribly petty and sour grapes and whatever of me. It’s not coming from a rational place; it’s a strictly emotional reaction, compounded by the fact that there’s nothing to apply for this week.

I would be good at these positions I’m applying for. And more than anything, I want to be part of the libertarian scene in DC. When I write it out like that, it looks pitiful. I never aspired to sit at the popular girls table in middle school; I didn’t like them, and I didn’t get why anyone would. And truth be told, if I did get what I want, I’m sure I still wouldn’t feel like I fit in; I’d undoubtably struggle. I know this about myself by now.

I listened to Bon Jovi’s “This Ain’t A Love Song” about 50 times today. It’s not lyrically relevant, but for whatever reason, it adequetely captured my mood.

Wednesday, December 23, 4:06 PM

I was puzzled by the “Unavailable” on my Caller ID, but I knew what it was as soon as I answered it, before the person on the other end responded.

And I knew, before she even got through the script she’d undoubtably been given, what she was going to say.

I got rejected from the Libertarian Fellowship.

Five days later

There are about a thousand things I could write about. About how part of me feels this was my only way into DC (and why). About the cover letters for other jobs that I should start writing (because I guess I want DC, damnit…or something). About why that feels useless too. About timing. About the luxury of timing. About ideal jobs and how most people don’t even like their jobs and the avenues I should consider as a result. About pride and ego.

But mostly, there’s nothing I can write, and nothing anyone can say that I don’t already know. I don’t want to get too emo about this and I want to fight the good fight and keep pursuing DC. But I am not naive and I have perused the job listings and there is nothing that even comes close to this.

I can settle for something less, and I’m used to that, and it would turn out fine.

But for once, just once, I wanted to not have to settle. I think that’s what is bothering me the most.

The phone interview didn’t go well. Nothing really horrible, just nothing good, either. No chemistry, no “click.”  I know I didn’t give any good answers, and of course now I’m thinking about what I should have said.

When I get like this, people are quick to reassure me that it probably wasn’t that bad, it will be okay, etc, etc. But it really was, that bad. I’m pretty sure I’m not getting to the next round. And even as I write this, I’m holding on to the bit of naive hope against hope that it wasn’t as bad as I thought and that I will get an in person interview. And in a way, that’s worse too. I’m mentally preparing myself to get the email that begins “Thank you for….Unfortunately,…”  but still hoping for the opposite result, which I am perfectly aware that I probably won’t get. I need to accept that nothing will properly prepare me for the stomach dropping ickiness that is a rejection.

I’m going to go write my thank you note and try not to cry.

I got fired today.

Around 3 PM, I got called into Nice Boss’s office with the HR person. Remarkably, I held it together. I cried on the subway home. Now I’m sitting on my bed trying to update my resume. Damage control mode.

The abject panic hasn’t set in yet. Seven months isn’t long enough to file for unemployment. I have a little bit of savings, so I can pay rent in May & June, but then there’s health insurance and the job market looks bleak, and how the hell do you explain being fired after 7 months in a job interview. (My company has a trial period of 6 months. Mine was 7 because my Important Boss was away all month.)

I need to start temping, ASAP. I’m too panicked to even enjoy the relief of being free from a job I should have been grateful to have, but hated.

2008 was supposed to be a better year. So much for that.