Life in the Middle Lane

Last week I got an email from someone who found me from reading Cosmopolitan Urbanist. I don’t know if he found the blog, then found me on LinkedIn or he found me on LinkedIn and clicked through to the blog. I guess for the purposes of this story, it doesn’t matter.

He found me, read my resume, and emailed me asking for help.  He’s a MPA student from UGA, and he’s looking for an internship. And in this economy, getting an internship is like being the new kid at school. The upperclassmen always win. Hell, I’ve even found myself looking at internships. (grumble, grumble, spit).  Apparently, something in my writing or my resume, or maybe just our common experience as MPAers made him think I’d be able to help him. HA!

We finally set up a call for today. He wanted to know how I got my internships (my resume is riddled with them). I wasn’t sure what he wanted me to tell him. I mean, it’s hard to tell someone, “I got the job because I knew someone who knew someone who introduced me and then I badgered them into hiring me.” Or, “Sometimes people assume that I know more (and have more experience) than I actually do, because I happen to be in the right places at the right time, then I get the chance to prove myself.” But it’s true. My professional life is a series of coincidences, with me talking my way into good situations, without a plan, a business card or a resume handy. I just show up, and good things happen.

I think that’s why I haven’t been able to find something really great in Atlanta. I don’t know where I need to be, (or I do, but I don’t have the guts to ACTUALLY SHOW UP.) I don’t know who I need to talk to (or I do, but I feel that I’m bugging them all the time. I don’t know what I need to say (because I don’t want to sound stupid, or worse, desperate). Sending out cover letters, emails, and the ordinary run of the mill job search stuff just isn’t working for me. This summer, I’ve realized that ordinary cover letters will get you an ordinary job. And I’m too…much… to have an ordinary job.

I asked the kid today what would be his ideal internship. And like I figured, it’s not something that you find in the yellow pages. So I didn’t tell him to scour indeed.com, idealist, or opportunityknocks like I have been doing all summer.  I told him about a fellowship that I knew he could apply for (along with 100’s of other MPAers).  But I told him to hang out in the alumni and career services office at UGA, and connect with alums that are working in Atlanta in his interest area. I told him to brush up on his association memberships (and GO TO MEETINGS and talk to people).  I told him to call everyone he knows that is currently working, and tell them what he’s looking for. I even gave him the names of some of my favorite Atlanta organizations, with instructions to call and ask for informational interviews.  Then I told him to call me back in a couple of weeks and tell me what he’s learned. (What can I say, I liked the kid and I want to help him.)

Over the course of the conversation, it slipped out that I’m unemployed (oops, did you know that?). And he flipped the switch on me by asking me what I’m looking for? Hmmm. Ideally, I’d like to work with a non-profit or community organization doing grassroots community development work. I want to develop programming for community building, volunteerism, arts and business related stuff, do some strategic long-term community planning/visioning, and also be able to talk to people about living their best lives. I want to keep one foot in the MPA waters, while also dipping my toes in the ministerial pool.

I didn’t tell the kid that because I just figured it out when my fingers typed it.  But he knows me from the blog, so he knows what I think about. And he gave me the names of a couple of organizations to stalk and they are right up my alley.  And he totally turned me on to following companies on LinkedIn, where I’ve already found a few people that I should know (and located my people who already knows them)

Who knows, maybe by (hopefully) helping this kid land a gig, I help myself to one too.

AKA: In which I come clean about something very important.

In January, I wrote a very vague post about something that I was doing but wasn’t ready to talk about. Later I tweeted about having really great news but not being able to talk about it until I told the GF and my mom.

At this point, I’ve told everyone (and I do mean everyone) IRL that truly needed to know. I mean, there are some things that some people just should not learn from reading this blog.

So now I’m ready to tell you.

In January (with 2 weeks to application deadline) I decided to apply to Divinity School. Yeah, I know I said I was done with school for a while, yeah I know I JUST finished MPA school. Yeah, I know I curse like a sailor and talk crap about the church. Yes, I know, I know, I know. And I’m sure in the lead up before I leave the cube and return to the academy, you’ll know all the answers to these questions and more.

But now, the beginning.

Completing the seminary application form was a life changing experience. I went through about 20 iterations of my application essay. I struggled over which aspects of my personality and experiences where most important for the Candler admissions committee. I contemplated telling them how I really felt about the church and how I hoped to change it. I added and deleted and added again, sections about blending the MPA and MDiv, my undergraduate experience, and my work experience. I even wrote a section about Gen Y. I had 4 friends (graduates and current divinity students) read my essay. The GF and I LIVED and BREATHED my Candler essay for weeks. I went back and forth over my purpose in attending Divinity School, and second guessed whether it was the right thing to do.

In the end, I decided to put my best foot forward, tell them as much about myself and my personal spirituality as possible (even linking to my blogs), push the submit button, and leave it in the hands of the Divine.  I decided that if I got in, it was meant to be. And if I didn’t get it, so be it.  Then I tried (unsuccessfully) not to obsess about it.

If you happen to read my bio on Brazen, you’ll see that years ago [it desperately needs to be updated], I said that I would study Religion if I didn’t have to work for a living. Well, I’ve been working for a living for almost a year now, and I hate every minute of it.  I decided to screw what I’m supposed to do, and concentrate of creating a life that would make me happy to live it.

I’ve been an amateur theologian and wisdom dispenser my entire life.  My childhood was spent memorizing bible verses, attending revivals and getting my PK friends into trouble. I was THE CHURCH GIRL.  And back then I hated it because I wanted to be like everyone else. 

By high school and college, I was the person people came to with their problems. I was still Church Girl but I was slowly learning to filter out all the church BS and help people in a practical way.

Today, my religious background is an undeniable part of who I am.  Biblical literature and religious trivia is one of the few things that I get truly geeky about. I could write a book (and I just might) on everything that I think is wrong with Christianity and all that I think the western world could learn from other world religions.  Sitting in a Systemic Theology class at Candler almost had me wet my pants in excitement. Reading Candler’s course catalog nearly had me in a dead faint.

I’ve spent the past 10 years trying to figure out who I am and how I want to spend my time. I found my purpose for helping people while working with citizens in local government, MPA school introduced me to urban problems like housing and community development and gave me the technical background to be effective in those areas, and seminary will nurture the caring and compassionate part of my personality that I will need to tackle the “people-side” some of those and other large social problems.  Each step I make gets me just a little bit closer, like I’m making increasingly smaller concentric circles. 

Each experience, even my current job, adds something to my professional toolbox and gives me the opportunity to learn something about myself, the world I live in, and my place in the mix.

I’m excited to say that Candler decided that my love of social justice and my decidedly untraditional brand of spirituality is a good fit for their program. Last week I sent them my deposit.

It’s official. I’ll be attending Emory University’s Candler School of Theology in the Fall.

My life is riddled with occasions that I did the “right” thing even though it may not have been what I really wanted to do.  These are occasions where I may not have really known what I wanted to do so I did what was suggested. Or times when I didn’t want to disappoint someone who was counting on me.  Or times when I did what I thought would give me the most flexible or practical outcome, even if something else would have been so much more fun or interesting.

If something goes wrong and outcomes are bad, I generally have someone else to blame for these decisions. And I often regret that I forfeited my own decision making power to someone else. At the very least, I kick myself in the ass for not being true to what I want.

Sometimes I just make impulsive, some would say rash, decisions. Those passionate, emotional, little-thought-required decisions are generally the ones that I am the happiest with. In those cases, even when/if I fall on my face, I get up and stand behind whatever decision I made. After all, I either got what I wanted or learned a huge lesson, right?

Some decisions, like my decision to go to Salem College, are a combination of both. My then-boyfriend was already in college in Winston Salem, so it made sense to me (in my 16 year old brain) that I should be looking at colleges in the same town so that we could be together forever. I scoped out the Winston Salem colleges and found two that looked good(Wake Forest University and Salem College).  I applied, was accepted and visited them both.

I visited WFU first and at best, I felt indifferent and at worst, I felt like my soul died a little on that campus.  But when I visited Salem, I felt immediately at home. The other colleges where I was accepted (and there were some good ones) didn’t stand a chance because I made an irrational, emotional decision. Salem was where I belonged, price, location, etc be damned! That decision changed the course of my life (for better and worse). But regardless of my mixed feelings about Salem, I never regretted my decision to attend that school. I went because there was an irrepressible calling here. It was like I was being tugged by something I couldn’t see.

I’m on the verge of making another illogical, emotional; some would probably say stupid, decision to try to be involved with something that I am extremely passionate about. (my true friends could probably guess it in 3 tries, it only took my mother 1) This decision (and what is likely to come out of it) won’t make me rich, likely won’t advance my career, is likely going to cost me money, and is going to make me do something that a few months ago I said I wouldn’t do.

But I’m going to do it anyway because if I woke up tomorrow and found that my uncle would give me money to quit my job, this one thing that I’m about to do- would be something on which I would dedicate large amounts of time and energy.

And damn it, it’s my life and I wanna do it.

But you know what, the longer I think about it (big mistake) the easier it becomes to try to talk myself out of it. Trust me, this decision isn’t practical, it’s a bit of a long shot, and I am nowhere close to having all the details all figured out.  But I’m like a cat, I *tend* to land on my feet. And details aren’t really my thing, they fall into place on their own.

And in this particular case, a wise person told me that they knew it was only a matter of time before I came around to this decision. She told me that my whole life has been in preparation for this moment.

And another wise person said that this particular thing is something that I’ve been talking about repeatedly for the whole time they’ve known me. This person damn near laid out a plan of attack based solely on all the random sh*t I’ve said over the years.

And I have another friend who told me that when I truly KNOW myself and allow me to be me, my purpose would reveal itself. (And I SWEAR she was talking about this.)

So anyway, I’ve been asking myself a lot lately, “What the hell do I want?” And my whole heart says, “This.”

And God help me, I’m going to listen.

I went to college without really knowing what I want to do. Over the four years I changed my major four times. I started as a Political Science major, then I was a International Business/French major, then I switched to a plain Business major, finally I found my home in a very unlikely place—The Philosophy and Religion department.

I started college without really knowing what I wanted out of a four year degree, other than to be rich and famous. I loved the being a Philosophy major because I got to do my favorite things; read, think, talk and write. When folks asked me what I expected to do with a degree in a Philosophy, at first I shrugged. At one point, I assumed that I would go to Law School but in my heart I knew that was a cop-out. By the time I graduated, I wasn’t worried about the naysayers because I knew that I can do ANYTHING with my degree because I’ve learned how to THINK.

Tell that to the employees who wanted to see me with a Business or Journalism degree.

It took me a little while to get my act together, but I soon I found a field (Government) where I fit, and I knew that making a career in the public sector was right for me.

It took a few more years, and a graduate degree, interviewing my mentors, therapy and a life coach for me to identify what is most important to me, the thing that I would do for free.

What’s important to me?

I write about it, here and on Cosmopolitan Urbanist.

-Being the Best Monica Ever and hopefully inspiring someone else to be the best them ever

-Making public organizations better through technology

-Making neighborhoods stronger through urban design and community development

None of which I get to do in my current job. My job pays the bills, but it doesn’t turn me on.  Every once in a while, I get excited about the opportunity to learn a new skill set at work. Some days, I’m just happy just to have a paycheck at the end of the month and I don’t care that I’m not content in my work. Most days, though, I am so bored and frustrated and anxious that I sit in my cube wondering how I got to this place and what the hell do I have to do to get out of here.

I read Naomi at Ittybiz and Chris Guillebeau at The Art of Non-Conformity and now I’m completely jealous of Jamie at A Life in Transition. I read their stuff and I get emotionally confused. I’m so excited for them and inspired by them, but I also get sad because I feel so ordinary. I feel so unaligned with my values. I feel that I’m just getting by and not living my best life.

I’m the most goal oriented person I know, but I’m feeling a little stuck about taking the small steps that I need to, to move towards my best life. When I think about my stuckness, I want to throw my head back and have a Charlie Brown moment. WAAAHHHH!  This is not my life!!

During a recent conversation, my mom asked me if I was happy. I decided to forego the “I’m fine” answer, and answer honestly. I had to tell her that no, I’m not happy. I’m absolutely not happy. I’m not supposed to be a fricking management analyst. I ranted about how this recession has put a cramp in all my plans, and how I don’t feel like I’m doing what I’m supposed to do. After a moment of silence, she agreed with me.

She said, “You have a ministry- not necessarily religiously- but you are supposed to be helping people to do and be better.”

Her response brought tears to my eyes. But what she said next made me stutter.

“What are you going to do about it?”

I didn’t have a great answer to give her.

Since then, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about what I really want out of life, and you should expect a post or two soon outlining just that.

Six years of secondary school has given me the skills that I need to build a successful business and gave me some professional credibility. Unfortunately for me, school didn’t really teach me what I need to do to live my ideal life. Being involved in the blogger community, especially reading Rebecca, and Penelope, and the other bloggers at Brazen Careerist has been the best education that I could have received. Through their inspiration, I’ve started to harness the power of my passion.

I’m moving slowly, and it’s hella frustrating. I never expected to be rich and famous overnight.  I know I’m going to work hard and be patient with myself. I know that soon, my hard work and my passion will get me to where I need to be.

And that’s how I’m crushing it.

A few years ago I was listened to a sermon, and the pastor said something that has stuck with me for years. He said we shouldn’t refer to ourselves as financially “broke” because that suggests that you need to be fixed or that you have a long term problem.  Instead, he says that we should say something like “I currently don’t have any money” or “I’m currently underfunded” or something like that because that suggests that your plight is temporary one.

Over the years, I’ve don’t a pretty good job of being cognizant of the language that I use when I refer to my relationship with money.  And over the years, money and I have developed a pretty decent relationship. While I’ve had an occasional slip up where I’ve run out of money before I’ve run out of month, I correct myself quickly.

That is, until now. For whatever reason, money and I are not on good terms. I get paid and it seems like days later, I’m poor again. I know that this is partly because I spend all my saving in San Francisco, and partly because I was unemployed for almost three months, but those aren’t the only reasons.

The real reasons are that it’s been a long time since I’ve had a real paycheck, and I suck at keeping a budget and I have high class taste and a pauper budget. Sad but totally true.

In graduate school, at the beginning of each semester you get a HUGE check and are tasked with budgeting in a way to make it last the entire semester.  This I could do.  And I always had a least a part-time job which allowed me to buy more beer. Life was awesome.

Before graduate school I lived with my mother.  For most of the time I had a well-paid full time job and a part-time job I did for fun (or for tequila money).    I bought groceries for the house and did most of the cooking in lieu of rent, and I had few expenses.  I even managed to save a bit. Life was awesome.

Before that, I shared a really cheap apartment with one of my former classmates, worked at an extremely low-paying job and hated my life. My only indulgence was my kickboxing membership because after working with 21 screaming first graders every day I needed to hit something every day. I often had to ask my mom to bail me out. That winter I had the flu and missed a week (unpaid) from school. It was a TOUGH year.

So full circle, I’m completely responsible for feeding, clothing, and providing shelter for myself.  Even though I’m splitting the household bills with the GF, taking care of myself is not an easy task. In fact, I f-ing suck at it.

I’m frustrated because I know that I’m making more money now than I’ve ever made in my life but it doesn’t feel like it.  And I’m frustrated because I thought I would be making a LOT more money after graduate school. (Screw the Recession!!)

In August when I got my first paycheck, my instinct was to pay all the bills that were past due over the summer. Bad idea. Basically because I forgot that I needed to pay the rent. D’Oh!  By the second paycheck, I was reeling. How in the world am I supposed to live off this?

So I decided to create a budget.

September was better. I managed not to get any overdraft fees on my checking accounts and I’m under my limits on my credit cards, which is awesome. However, sometimes I look at my budget or my bank accounts and it still says that I have like 2 dollars in the bank. This makes me frustrated and sad. Sometimes I just open up my pretty little excel spreadsheet and stare. Where does all my money go? What expenses can I delete? Do I really need Groceries? Gas? My storage unit?

I don’t want to get a second job at this point in my life. In the past I worked two jobs to stay busy. Now I want to spend my evenings working out, writing, or hanging with the GF, not bussing tables and filling water glasses.

To live the kind of life I want to live, I’m going to need to be resourceful about my revenue streams. And I’m going to have to give something(s) up. Again, balance is important. I need to be responsible with my finances, on the off chance that someone down the line cares about that sort of thing. On the other hand, I want to enjoy my life and my money. I refuse to be a slave to my debt.

So what to do? I probably won’t be able to pay off my credit cards or car loan as quickly as I want. I’m probably going to have to give myself a higher deductible on my car insurance. I may need a forbearance or deferment on my student loans. I’m going to have to store all my junk at home rather than rent a storage unit, and I’m going to have to be a more frugal grocery shopper.

Bottom line, I’m not going to let money rule my life.  We just gotta get back on good speaking terms.

How do you manage your monthly finances?

A few weeks ago, I said that the time and money that I spent job hunting in San Francisco was a waste. Believe me, if I knew then what I know now, I wouldn’t have done all that traveling. I spent hundreds of dollars, and I have nothing to show for it. I wasted my time and money.

My friend, who overheard me, was aghast. How dare I say that!?!  She said I was being ungrateful. I met some really cool people, I learned  BART, I made some professional contacts that will be handy in the future. How could my time have been a waste, when I got to experience all that good stuff came out of it?

Well, I said. My trip out West was purposeful.  It was all about getting a job.  I went on 4 interviews with 3 organizations.  And I came home empty-handed.  So yeah, a waste.

But what about the experience, my friend implores. I got to do a lot of cool stuff! The travel, the time spent in a really cool city hanging out with the locals going to the really cool restaurants. I got to do something few other people get to do. My friend said I was looking at the experience too narrowly.

My friend was right.  I’ve (mostly) had a great time in San Francisco.

But I wasn’t wrong.  I went to California with a goal in mind; I expected FULLY to get a job out of the deal. But in this case, I came home without meeting my goal.  Were my expectations too high? Should I be satisfied having the experience? Or should I continue to focus on meeting my goal?

I’m not satisfied with JUST having the experience. Is Hillary satisfied that she had the experience of running for president? I think not. I’m sure it will help her in the long run, but RIGHT NOW I doubt that she’s jumping for joy.  What about all the American Idol hopefuls, or the Miss America runner-ups or the teams that didn’t win the Super Bowl. Do you believe them when they give their farewell speech and say that they are happy to have the experience? Yeah, I get that they are happy for the experience, but they came to win, right? And it sucks to get [thisclose] and then fail to meet your goal.

I came to win.  And while I enjoyed my time in San Francisco, I didn’t win. And when it comes to looking for a job, coming in second doesn’t get you paid.

I got off the train on Thursday, and found myself in the cleanest MARTA station I’ve ever seen. The platform didn’t smell like pee or filth. The escalators were all working. I wasn’t sure where I was supposed to go, I looked wildly at the wayfinding signs, and randomly picked, and went up the escalator. At the top, I found myself at a security checkpoint in a Georgia State Building.  I quickly found out I was in the wrong place, and made my way outside.

Outside the building, I looked up into the sky and the first thing I saw was shiny, golden dome of the Georgia State Capitol.  Immediately I was taken back.  I was probably in the third grade, and my class went on a field trip to another state capitol. It was beautiful. All I remember is that the seats and carpets were deep burgundy and sooooo soft. The dome (are domes required on capitol buildings?) was stately, but opulent, with different colored glass and gold filigree.  I remember our tour guide telling us that the building was newly renovated. I was starstruck. I remember thinking—I wanna work in a place that’s this cool when I grow up.

Then I was taken to another time. I was 22 and driving to DC.  It wasn’t my first trip to DC, but this trip was special. I was in town for an interview, it was the middle of the worst year of my life, and it was my first trip to DC by myself as an adult.  I was on the interstate, and I remember looking over the city. It was so pretty and glittery and POWERFUL!! I fell in love with DC immediately, and I fall more in love every time I’m there.

I was so excited and I couldn’t hold it in. I just hooped and hollered and did a jig in the car. It was so exciting. I had to call my friends and scream “I’M IN DC!!!!!” And because my friends are awesome, they yelled along with me.

All of a sudden, I’m snapped back to all the times over the past two years in MPA school where I’ve emphatically declared that under no circumstances would I consider a job in state government. ‘It’s a bureaucracy!’, I’d say. ‘Nothing ever gets done there!’, I’d say. ‘It’s too big!”, I’d say.

But there I was, about to walk into that big domed building. I just shook my head. I whispered under my breath, “Never say never.”

Alternate Title: What happened on my California interviews.

A few weeks ago, I received an offer for an interview in Hayward, California for a Deputy City Clerk position. In a good economy, I wouldn’t have even considered the position. (I’ve worked in a City Clerk’s office before, and I know that being a Clerk is not what I want to be when I grow up).  However, this is not a good economy, and times are hard, and I was just excited to get an interview.  During the same timeframe, I applied for a couple of other jobs that I was REALLY excited about (San Jose Downtown Association and the Silicon Valley Leadership Alliance). Since I had to spend almost $400 dollars on a plane ticket (regardless of whether I spent 2 days or 10 days), I decided that I should maximize my time and request interviews with the other organizations, and meet as many people as possible.

The City of Hayward uses a two interview process.  I had an initial panel interview with Clerks from other Bay Area jurisdictions.  The purpose of the interview was to see if I had the basic skills and temperament to be a Deputy Clerk, i.e. they ranked applicants in terms of general “clerk” ability.  I came in third, which granted me a second interview. The second interview was with the City Clerk and the City Attorney.  It was….meh. They didn’t ask me anything I wasn’t expecting, and I answered their questions quickly and thoroughly. The City Clerk was young, and it was great to see someone her age (early 30’s) at the top of her field.

The interesting thing about the Hayward interviews?  The questions were so generic. The panel interview was harder because a) there were three people to make eye contact with and b) their questions were harder and more scenarios based. The second interview felt like a recap of the first interview, and some of the questions were legal questions. (Hello! I decided NOT to go to law school remember) And the City Attorney asked me what I hoped to do with a Philosophy degree. I had to keep my composure, and say very sweetly,

I can do anything I want to with a Philosophy Degree. Studying Philosophy teaches one to think logically and solve problems.

To which he grunted.

In short, I’m not crazy about the position, but it would be a promotion from my last job before graduate school and it would get me to the West Coast (which is the goal). *shrugging*

I am way more excited about the other two jobs that I interviewed for.  The Silicon Valley Leadership Alliance is an amazing organization, and I was very excited that they were willing to interview me on short notice.  In the advertised position, I would be analyzing policy and managing the Directors of Environmental Policy and Energy Policy.  The Directors (who interviewed me) were so awesome. I had a great chemistry with them; the interview was very easy and relaxed. They didn’t ask the generic questions [they had great questions]. We had things in common, I loved them.  The job was SO ME.

Two problems: They told me,

While we think you’re great and capable and intelligent, and would be great in this job, there are 15 other people in the stack that are just like you.

Ouch. And they have a 3 part interview process, which means I would need to fly out to California twice more. Their timeframe for hiring someone is August, so I send them nice emails every once in a while so they don’t forget me….[If you are reading, guys, please hire me]

Interview Three was with the San Jose Downtown Partnership. It wasn’t a “real” interview; we met at the local Starbucks. I asked that hiring manager to meet with me while I was in town.  We agreed that a real interview could happen later on the phone. I just wanted her to have my face (and my body language) to go with my resume.   While I know that I am capable of being a great Event Coordinator (the position that I’m interviewing for), this is a case of right organization, wrong position. Working for a Downtown Development Agency is one of my dream jobs, but I always saw myself in a policy, analytical, or government or client relations role. I think the Event Coordinator gig would be a lot of fun and I think I would learn a lot.  But the hiring manager thinks I’m over qualified and won’t last long.  I tried to reassure her, but I don’t know if I convinced her.

If I had to rank these jobs in order of my preference, I’d choose 1) Silicon Valley Leadership Alliance, 2) San Jose Downtown Association 3) City of Hayward.

I believe that the best way to get a job is to be you in an interview. If interviewers don’t like the me that they see in the interview, then they aren’t going to like me in the position.  Even when I’m not offered the position, often interviewers still tell me that they get “good feelings” about me or that I have a good aura or that I’m likeable)   I feel as confident as I can about these interviews, knowing that I showed them my best self.

Over the past few days I’ve realized that I’m back on my “depression sleep cycle”.  Bed after midnight, sleep til 10am.  Yawn all day….eat junk….mope around.

During the hours when I am, what passes for awake, I trudge from restaurant to restaurant from temp agency to temp agency putting on my happy face, and telling them all why I would be just AWESOME as a hostess, bartender, server, administrative assistant, call center rep……and all I REALLY want to do is cry.

This is not my life.  At least, this is not the life I wanted/dreamed of/expected.  I mean, when I finish writing this post, I’m going down to the local CVS to apply for a job as a cashier.

And to think. I actually WENT to college. TWICE.

At night when I’m waiting (usually in vain) for my eyes to close and sleep to overtake me, I run through my mind all the people I need to email, all the staffing companies I still need to get to, all the cute little restaurants that I should drop by, and ask the Universe, God, whatever you want to call the higher being that keeps the world turning…… When will it end? When will I hit rock bottom?

I am beginning to believe that it is only when I am on the brink of a nervous breakdown, all my optimism is gone, and I have no other options that whatever breakthrough I’m supposed to have will happen.  I’ll have a moment of clarity, and the path I’m supposed to take will be clear, and I’l stop feeling like a fish out of water.

And I think it’s close.

Looking for a job is a lonely experience.  Looking for a job in a brand new city across the country is an extremely lonely experience. With all the time I spend applying for jobs, I’ve largely ignored the rest of my life.  The constant worry and rejection, coupled with the “so how’s the job search going?” questions leave me too sad, depressed and anxious to come out and be social.

This week I’m in the Bay Area for an interview. (YAY!)  But in spite of my super excitement about the opportunity and my confidence that I’ll get the job, I’m so sad out here. This is my second trip to the Bay.  On my first trip, I had so much fun.  It was equal parts networking extravaganza and vacation. This trip (because I’m newly poor and jobless) I can’t even afford a hotel or a rental car.  I’m staying with a friend of a friend who happens to live near a BART station (thank GOD).  I’m just starting to be comfortable traveling on the trains. However, I still haven’t ventured on the buses. I constantly worry that I’m overstaying my welcome and will come back to find my suitcase on the sidewalk.

Being out here, I spend a lot of time alone. Sometimes alone is just alone, but sometimes, most times, alone is a very lonely place.  I just wanna go home, drink straight out of my own milk carton and watch my tv in my underwear. (Except, I gave up my apartment, and am now living with my mom–boo).

Being in a new city, alone, is tough. Having to be ON and networking and interviewing in a new city is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  Today I was on a train and it hit me. I don’t want to do this by myself and I don’t want to be here by myself anymore.  I’m tired and I’m done.  I cannot do another trip out here like this. If I don’t get a job out of this trip, I think I’ll officially be at rock bottom.

It’s not that I am losing faith. It’s not that I don’t believe in myself. I believe in hard work, I believe in perseverance, I believe in a little bit of luck .  So I’m going BALLS OUT for the next three days. As hard as I’ve been working, all the leads that I’ve followed, all the time and effort I put in, and as big a hit that my credit card has taken (!!!) if nothing happens this week, I need to rethink my strategy.

You know that old saying, “Know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away….” I’m not walking away.  I’m going all in.

Wish me luck out here. It’s now or nothing.