I say this because it was after 70 job applications that I finally scored an interview. The job was a two-week, part-time gig selling friendship bracelets in the lobby of a theater– my references were relevant, my experience was impressive, and the interview was by far the best I’ve ever had. The job was scheduled to begin the next night and my interviewer suggested that I clear my calendar.
I never heard from him again.
I’ve also applied to at least a dozen roommate ads– most never respond at all but several have gone so far as to ask me to come by that evening to see the place, only to reply half an hour later that the apartment is no longer available.
As much as I love New York, I have to admit that I am beginning to re-examine my loyalty.
Tonight I was complaining to my mother that I don’t know what to do with myself when my lease runs out on January 5th. She rightfully informed me that the world’s smallest violin was playing just for me which inspired me to channel my inner fourteen-year-old and brat, “What are you saying I should do? Just put a bunch of a city names in a hat and draw one out and then just, like, move there?”
I opened my mouth to say something snotty… and then closed it again.
p.s. I’m currently taking recommendations. Thinking west/southwest…