So, just heard back from a job application I put in... They certainly didn't hang around telling me that I didn't get an interview. Applications only closed on Monday.
In one respect, I feel rejected, dejected and really, thoroughly not wanted.
On the other hand, I'm not working in Games workshop or on the dole. I have a job and while I am at the top of my current job tree and getting restless, I still have what I have. A roof over my head, a (goodish for now) job and the love of a good woman, supportive friends and family. So I suppose, there's nothing really for me to feel sorry for myself about.
So why do I?
I think it stems from the fact that the job that I applied for was pretty much written for me. Design experience, costume experience, puppetry experience, teaching and curriculum development experience. Everything I have, in spades. And they didn't even give me a fucking interview. To be rejected in the first round of applications and not even getting to the first interview where I could have a chance to shine.
It might be the black dog towering above me now, but I haven't been as low as I am right at this moment. After I received the news, I was actually considering going home for a little while so that people wouldn't see me hugging myself and rocking backwards and forwards in my seat (Although this is, I suppose, a digital version of that) I was seriously close to it. I went out at lunchtime to get some of the sunshine into me to see if that would help and for the first time in nearly 1.5 years, I almost caved in and bought cigarettes. I know it would make me feel even worse, but that chemical nicotine rush would be worth it wouldn't it?
There is no pithy end to this one, no bon mot at the end of the tale to make it worth the read... Sorry, but that's life isn't it? Sometimes it rips the fucking floor from under you.
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