“All this shit in life seems to happen for a reason.
Was it me or the end of the season?”
- Ingram Hill, “Four Letter Word”
I graduated college in May. I left Jackson without a job and without any major prospects. I have no regrets about how my final semester in college went. I wish I could have changed the way things happened with my job, but knowing what I know now, that situation was so far out of my control that I did everything I could have possibly done. I finally allowed myself to stop feeling sorry that I broke up with my ex-boyfriend. (I wouldn’t change that for millions of dollars. I wouldn’t. Would I change how things are now? Sure. Would I like to change the fact that he’s a lying douchebag? Absolutely. However, both of those things are his problem, not mine.) My summer began, was almost entirely uneventful, and made me feel like a failure because I worked my butt off in college, earned my degree, and had nothing to show for it.
The job hunt and boring, terrible, too long summer continued through June. I had dinner with my Indiana best friend a few times. The most notable time was when I got hit on via a note a waiter flung at our table. It still may be one of the better things that happened that summer. After a failed attempt to drive to Memphis (Who doesn’t love when their car overheats?), I rented a car, drove to Memphis, and had the best job interview for an amazing job … and spent weeks crying when I found out I didn’t get it, even though my interviewers loved me and thought I’d be perfect for the job and were so excited and, and, and NOTHING. It was possibly the most difficult thing I dealt with all summer — the constant rejection. I think if I would have heard, “You’re wonderful, and your resume looks great, but you don’t quite have enough experience for us” ONE MORE TIME, someone was going to get jacked in the face.
Even though the month started out badly, things started looking up in July. I found a lot of solace in music, especially songs about being lied to by someone who cares about you. I stockpiled a lot of righteous anger, which helped me get through a lot of pain that month. (It’s never fun when people lie to you; it’s never fun when you get lied to CONSTANTLY for years; it’s never fun when no matter how hard you try to separate yourself from it, it still happens.) I had two job interviews in Jackson — at my alma mater, no less. I was finally offered the job I applied for in March or April or WHENEVER, and I finally, finally, finally could put an end to the never-ending job hunt. More importantly, though, I finally got to come home.
