It’s late Sunday night and I’ve managed to wholly depress myself with an epically long West Wing fan fiction. Seriously. Why do I read stories with long epilogues that track the characters as they age and eventually grow old and die? They just depress me.

The fact that I am writing about West Wing fan fiction depressing me should theoretically depress me (in terms of That Is Pathetic) but I am so past the point of caring by now. Does that count as self acceptance? I’m going to go with yes. I read West Wing fan fiction people. I also still read Law & Order SVU fan fiction, although I am not as obsessed as I once was. And when I was 15-16 I was ADDICTED to Dawson’s Creek fan fiction.

This weekend was a total wash. Friday night I was tired to the point of not being able to sleep. Then on Saturday libertarian-esque meeting for Saturday was cancelled. And then the Canadian Libertarian was not around on Saturday night.

I did get laundry done and I did, finally-finally, make it to the gym.

But my mom is annoyed with me for the dumbest reason ever (involving me not getting a text message because I didn’t have my phone with me at that exact second and therefore not replying to her text message), I have to be at work early tomorrow and I feel like I STILL didn’t get enough sleep this weekend, and I didn’t get anything done on the job application front this past week. So I’m wound up and frustrated and I really don’t want to go to work tomorrow.

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Points if you get where my post title is from without googling.

I feel the need to clarify something from yesterdays post (she says, defensively). Much of my woe is coming from the fact that I can’t even get an admin assistant position in the field that I want to be in. Two commenters pointed out that this is the way to go if I’m serious about DC (and they are right) but I have applied for admin positions at every foreign policy, or foreign policy related think tank in DC.  As well as various other interesting places.

There are a number of places where I want to work where I don’t care what the job is – I just want to work there! These positions pay about half of what I’m making now, but I’d manage. Someone just has to hire me first. My fear is that in order to move to DC I’ll have to take another legal assistant job (or worse) which isn’t really my field and I’ll just get trapped in it because all my experience on paper is in it.

The other thing V and I were lamenting is “entry level” is both a misnomer and a double-edged sword. For example, these positions will claim to be “entry level” and they will pay entry level wages, but then they will ask for three years experience and in the end it’s basically an admin position. On the other end,  I have been viewed as “too experienced” for entry level. The number of times my snobby Masters degree has raised the eyebrows (and not in a good way) of the hiring person is astounding. They question why I’m applying to an “assistant” position and they question why I’ve been working in as an assistant.

Existential crises aside, do these people not understand having bills to pay? I’ve been at my current job for a year and a half. A year and a half ago, I was running out of unemployment and I couldn’t afford to shop around for the perfect job. Now that I’ve built up some savings (and I have the luxury of looking while employed) I can be choosier. But my experience, particularly my type of experience, is generally looked down upon.

I know that this all sounds defeatist and terribly know-it-all-ish. Who am I to claim that I know the workings of a hiring manager’s mind? I could be projecting, right? Thing is, I truly feel I’m being pragmatic and realistic with all of the above, and that if I let myself think otherwise then I’m being delusional.

Which perhaps is another puzzle. I believe I experienced this when I was job hunting immediately post-college. That is when I was interviewing for every receptionist/assistant position in NYC. Including one at a glue factory way the hell out in Brooklyn (seriously, it was a looooong ride on the R train) staffed solely by Orthodox Jew.

That was an awkward interview.

On the plus side I put $500 in my savings account this paycheck. On the negative side, I spent an obscene amount of money on clothing. On the plus side, I will be returning a large percentage of it, so no harm done. Mostly.

Now, to get a job in DC, so I have a place to wear all my cute clothes. Suburban Jersey + no dress code at work means I’m wearing jeans and plain sweaters everywhere.

I have started a few entries in the past two days about how I am tired/groggy/cranky/still haven’t done laundry. I am hesitant (or lazy) about writing about/posting such things, because they are boring, whiny, and unattractive. The last one goes back to the fact that the old habit of writing for a specific audience (read: ex-boyfriends or love interests who you want to give the appearence of togetherness/happiness/confidence to), which is unattractive in and of itself.

Work is busy.

This upcoming weekend, I somehow have to motivate myself to go to the gym (newly joined, uber cheap), return the quilt I bought online, and return some stuff at Borders. None of that should be at all difficult, but I am in such stasis that such errands seem like Herculian tasks.

Apparently, I am also incapable of writing anything that is not a cliche.

I keep thinking that at least it’s Wednesday, and after the dreaded Wednesday night meeting, it’s all smooth sailing from here (because that is how weeks usually go) but this week is going to get worse before it gets better, and then it all starts again Monday and it will be equally, if not more icky.

I fully intend to do my laundry tonight, which will at least end my bitching on that one.

The utter laziness of this weekend (in which I did not even do laundry) disgusts me. Occasionally the sloth-ness of my existences gets to me and I spend Monday feeling icky about my hardcore indulgence in one of the seven deadly sins. I am hoping to rectify this by doing my laundry tonight and perhaps straightening my room, but the number of hours I spend sitting on my bed with my laptop is really obscene.

I’m getting punchy. Maybe I would also feel better if I cleaned my desk, but instead I am choosing to whine unattractively.

It’s not that I hate the person I am now. I’m ok with her, the girl who has developed an unhealthy West Wing (or more accurately Josh/Donna) obsession, the girl who reloads her email every 90 seconds, the girl who eats far too many of these delicious crispy pretzel-cracker things. She is better off than the person I was a year ago, even if I have to refer to her in third person. But sometimes, I am just so sick of her, and she is so sick of her surroundings, and we are so impatient for it not to be this way.

I know of all the suggestons and solutions , the if you don’t like where you are or what you’re doing then it is up to you to change that. I’m working on that, I am – the Libertarian fellowship was certainly a huge part of that. But it’s a slow process and it feels like a lot of hurry up and wait and go nowhere fast, and so for now I’m just stuck being the girl I am now, who has nowhere to wear all her pretty new one-size smaller clothes.

In April, I will have been in suburbia for two years, when it was supposed to be for a few months. In May, I will be 27, and before I know it, another summer will speed by. Time is going to fast and I’m not keeping up with it, and while I’m doing as much as I can to find a way to get to a place where I want to be, there are only so many avenues and outlets. There’s a recession, there’s reality, and there’s logistics.

I didn’t mean for this to turn into such an existential angst fest, but my whining should be recorded. For posterity’s sake.

I didn’t mean to take that much of a blog break, but things were busy with the prep for DC and then actually being in DC and ug. It wasn’t the best of long weekends. The interview stuff went fine, I think. I think.

But on a whole, the four days was just stressful and I didn’t feel 100% and the weather sucked and I don’t really like DC. And I really don’t want to go to work tomorrow – I basically want to sleep for another 3 days. It annoys me that I can’t even use my vacation days to relax – that my vacation days have effectively been more stressful and tiring then any recent day at work.

And now I have entire suitcase of laundry (in addition to the pile at home) and an inbox full of work email to get caught up on, and just writing my thank you notes for the interviews seems daunting. I don’t know why I get so overwhelmed by simple things like this, but I’m vaguely nauseated, I’m tired despite having gotten a decent amount of sleep.

I have to put on a happy face by the time I get home, because I don’t want to deal with my parents thinking I’m anything but perfectly together. I am hoping that I’ll be able to sleep on the train.

How is it only Tuesday? It should be at least Wednesday. I hate Tuesdays.

Application is due on Thursday, although I got an email saying that if I couldn’t make that date, then to email and they would make sure I was considered in the first round. I am 99.9% sure I will not take them up on this offer because

a) diminishing returns. I don’t think I could significantly improve my application with say, 2 more days of work, and then there is also the danger of overthinking it and screwing it up

b) I am categorically opposed to extensions. I hate professors who give them and I hate it when people take advantage of them (with requisite caveat for extenuating circumstances, lest I look like the bitch who wants you to turn your paper in on time, even though your grandma just died and you have cancer and your wallet got stolen). In grad school, there were people who got extensions for papers that went well into the next quarter; they just had an “Incomplete” as a placeholder. I always hated that. Because at some point, shouldn’t you just fail? Sure, you should turn in the best possible paper you can, but I think part of the assignment is completing the paper within the specified period of time.

c) I don’t want to be the girl who emails asking for an extension (even though its been granted) because I fear it will reflect poorly on me, even though I am apparently one of the few people who take deadlines seriously (see above).

I also managed to completely pysch myself out my reading some of the alumni profiles on the Fellowship website and also I am obsessing about the specificity level of my Statement-of-Purpose-of-sorts, because I’m afraid they will read it and be like “Well that’s lovely, but that’s not really what we do here. In fact, that’s not even close to what we do here.”  Yes, they will say that. With italics.

I’m going to go play another game of Wordtwist and try not to think about my SoP-of-sorts.

What is the ideal role of the government in 50 words or less?

This is one of the questions I have to answer for my Libetarian Application. I have an answer in mind, but it might be a little too snarky. But the “safe” answer (“The ideal government is limited to common defense and arbitration of dispute between citizens”) is way too boring. Also, there’s one question that doesn’t have a word limit and so I’m writing what I guess is a “Statement of Purpose” except not really. I don’t know. At this point I want to give up on the whole thing because I feel like all my answers are garbage and I have no idea how to make them any better. It’s been a very long time since I’ve done an application.

Also, I never do anything risky, because I am a freaking Hobbesian, so I’m afraid to be even the littlest bit creative or snarky in my answers, even though it could help, if I am knowing my audience correctly, so to speak.

I guess I need to sucker some people into reading over my application. At least it is mostly short answer (as in, 100 words or less). I really need to get this in final draft shape so I can meet the first application deadline. Because really, hitting the early deadline feels like the only way in hell I’ll have a shot at this.

This day has not started out too great. Actually, it’s this whole week not starting out great, since I had my 3 day weekend. This not driving thing is really getting old. The mental gymnastics of arranging rides is really old. Late November cannot come soon enough. The caveat that this is of course my own damn fault should both goes without saying and does not make one iota of a difference regarding my exhaustion with this arrangement.

 I am also sick of people asking me why I can’t just take the bus. I would love if public transportation were an option here. Love. It. It is not. There is no public transportation going anywhere near my commuting route.

I am a bit snippy. My attitude doesn’t really matter since things are the way they are, there is nothing I can do about it now, and it won’t be this way forever, so I should just have a decent attitude about it for now, because there is no sense making myself crazy about it. Some weeks this is easy, or at least realistic to do.

 This is not one of those weeks.

 I keep losing my train of thought, clicking mindlessly over the internet, in search of something productive to do. I really should sit still and finish writing some answers to application questions. (No, not more school; perish the thought for now) I should ride the brainwaves of a caffeinated high and find, if not brilliance, thae articulation. Or at least, spill sentences on paper so I have something to edit later. Some days, this is easy to do.

 This is not one of those days.

 I keep writing paragraphs and deleting them. There was a question on 20-something bloggers yesterday “is there anything you won’t blog about?” The answer is yes, but I’m not ready to answer what it is that I won’t blog about, or to blog about said topic. Except that today something tangentially related to the Subject That Shall Not Be Blogged (Henceforth, STSNBB) is really bothering me. It is also something that I can do exactly nothing about, so I should really quit my bitching, develop some Zen, and let it go. Some moments, this is easy to do.

 This is not one of those moments.

I started a post last night about how I really didn’t want to go back to work and how I was having this Pavlonian-esque response to Labor Day. My stomach was in knots and I was filled with just this dread that one feels the night before school starts. And I liked school, for the most part!

But anyway, I didn’t finish it, because whining is unattractive and to save myself from future cringing and deleting, I stopped writing. Also, laziness.

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And unlike seemingly everyone else on the planet, I don’t have this Monday off. WHINE.

I did have a fairly good Saturday though, which I will write about in greater detail when I am cranky and dismayed at work tomorrow. I cleaned my room and have three giant garbage bags awaiting disposal. I also got rid of two bags of clothes. I did not, however, do my second load of laundry. I also stayed up late watching Arrested Development DVDs and Raise Your Voice (starring Hillary Duff. Shut. Up)

This is what suburban Jersey will do to a person.

So I’ve been awake since way too ungodly an hour since I got up to get a drink of water and realized “oh. we apparently don’t have water.” Also still have to figure out how to get Emily her keys, considering she doesn’t know I have them in the first place, and I don’t have a cell phone (still.) Which means I don’t want to leave Hyde Park to attempt to get cell phone issue resolved because I’m relying on internets to communicate about keys.

I’m unneccesarily stressed and paranoid about all this cat sitting stuff. Like some guy was right behind me going into the building last night and I was very conscious of him walking up the stairs behind me and I was thinking “omg, what if he tries to rob me? What if he tries to make me open the apartment and then lets out the cat?!?” Even though there’s plenty of electronics that I’m sure would-be robber would care about way more than the cat. But I would save my own cat over a DVD player and now that I’m talking about it, I’m getting myself anxious about this actually happening.

I’m generally never worried about my personal safety, and like there’s these moments of panic here, its always a bit of relief to open the door and confirm that yes, cat is still alive and well. And now I’m all paranoid and anxious to go over there, but I have to wait until an acceptable hour to confirm the water problem isn’t just my apartment and find out if I need to let maintenence people in.

I still don’t feel good. Being that I always feel about 15 degrees hotter than it actually is, the heat and I are not getting along already. And not having water is just a good way to start the day, when all I want is a shower.

Up till 2:00 reading Waltz & Sagan.

From now until May 31, nuclear strategy owns my life. Then, until June 5, my life is owned by US-Asia relations, more nuclear strategy, and conventional warfare/Iraq.

I’d like to claim that my life will be owned by nothing after that, but I’m go to be a ball of anxiety until I find a job. But either way, my academic career will be over in a little over three weeks. (or WILL it?!? Stay tuned for at least a year’s more hedging on to PhD or not to PhD!)

This weekend consisted of both what Eric described as “a comedy of errors” and a degree of unmitigated disaster. Shockingly, I’ve remained amazingly calm, mostly because at the end of it all its been “well, what can you do?” And other than some bruises and a way-too-long-wait for the #6 bus it’s all okay. However, as a result I got much less done this weekend then I should have. My only accomplishment is that my LRS assignment is the unofficial first 10 pages of my thesis.

I am NOT looking forward to writing 60 pages in the next two weeks, nor do I want to deal with all the bureaucratic nonsense I now have to deal with. And I can’t do any of the bureaucratic nonsense until I get the fed-ex package containing my passport.  (Incidentally, this morning I located my old Skidmore Campus Events ID, which does have my DOB; I wonder if it would have made a difference even though its not government issued. Oh well.)

Also, I am graduating in June if it kills me. June 8th, to be exact.

And other than that, I got nothing.

Grad school really is a freaking roller coaster. My good mood and positive attitude lasted approximately 16 hours. Now I am anxious over something I screwed up for work (the dread of waiting for your boss to come talk to you about what you wrong. In this case, the dread is going to last until 4 PM tomorrow when I next see him). I am also back to stressing out about empirical/statistical methods courses to the point of nausea.

I WANT  to be able to get into a PhD program. If I don’t get in where I want, am I going to regret not taking this stupid class that was recommended to me? Is it going to be one of my big “if onlys?” I’m trying to put this is perspective, but I’m having a difficult time, because being at U Chicago is like having blinders on. At U Chicago, they think they are The Authority on everything, and so whenever ANYONE in a position of authority tells you anything, you think you have to take them on their word, regardless of what you may think/feel.

(It’s funny. One of my “issues” is I have a lot of defense mechanisms that are often unhealthy. U Chicago has massive defense mechanisms issues, because outside of academia, people forget about U Chicago because it’s not among the Ivies. U Chicago is an amazing institution, and the name carries a lot of respect in academic/law school circles, but not to the general public. U Chicago thus overcompensates by proclaiming to by the Final Word on everything. I mean, I’m sure all schools do that to an extent, but Chicago is ridiculous about it.)

Maybe I should just lower my standards and accept the fact that no matter what I do I will not get into my Super-Secret-Dream-School. But then, what if getting some empirical methods experience is the deciding factor in considering me there, and blah.

And now it sounds like I’m basically whining because I don’t want to take a class because it’s hard and it’s boring and whatever. I mean, I know I’m going to have to do these things within a PhD program eventually. Maybe I should just suck it up on the Comparative Politics front.

Maybe I should just not take the class I think I need for my thesis; maybe I don’t really need a whole class on The Prince in order to incorporate Machiavelli into my thesis. And then I can take Florentine Republic next quarter anyway. Maybe.

Ug. I need to talk to someone who is not my precept about this and get a second opinion.

Oh. My. God. It is so hot.

Last winter, when I was living in Jersey City (you pay for your own heat in Jersey) and I used the heat as little as possible because it was electric and thus very expensive. Brent accused me of living like a Dostoyevskian prostitute.

Now, I live in Astoria, land of great power failures and no A/C. It is 117 in my apartment right now. I am sitting on my bed, in my underwear, in between 3 fans and I am still sweating. The sensible question is “Why don’t you go elsewhere?” Well there’s only so much time one can waste at B&N and other air conditioned locations when all your friends are rushing home to their air conditioned apartments. I get restless. And I am somewhat of a homebody and enjoy being in my own space.

Tomorrow is supposed to be worse. I don’t know if I can do it.

I am really paranoid about dehydration too. This heat is scary.

On the plus side, my apartment is like a sauna so my skin looks absolutely lovely.