Life is Absurd

Give me a fucking second.  Please. 

Okay, so obviously what’s going on with me isn’t even a quarter as severe as Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but I can’t think of another term for it.  And I really hate to get emo over the internet, but it’s really hard to be funny when you’re sad/confused/weird.  ON TO THE EMO! 

I hate to keep talking about the interview for THE JOB, but it’s all I can think about.  I keep thinking about what I should have said before, during, and after the fact.  I should have handled that rejection call better (I should have gotten up earlier so that I didn’t have sleepy voice!).  I should have told her to keep me in mind.  I should have emphasized in the interview that I HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO DO THIS DAMN JOB.  I should have stressed my production experience as much as my office experience.  There is no doubt in my mind I could have done that job and made some really great friends and connections.  

I mean, this was the job that could have changed my life.  It would have been an awesome experience and a fantastic thing to put on my resume.  Instead I’m here.  Same spot, different day.  I find it hard to believe another opportunity will ever present itself like this one did.  The odds are not in my favor. 

I get worried.  I feel inadequate.  I didn’t go to an amazing college and I’m having a hell of time getting any experience out here.  Again, I knew all of this before I moved out here, but I had no idea it would take THIS long to find a job.  Any job at this point.

But man, how incredible would it have been to actually get THE JOB.  It would have been great.  I would have felt worthy and proud to work on such a show.  I’d take it as a sign that I am meant to be here.  I am meant to contribute to the world of scripted television. 

I’m really not trying to have a pity party, I just CAN’T GET THIS DAMN MISSED OPPORTUNITY OUT OF MY SKULL (the caps are necessary right now).  I keep telling myself  - “You’ll get the job you’re meant to get” - but holy shit.  That’s all I can say is holy shit.  I don’t know what to do.  I guess if it takes another six months before I have another awesome interview, then it takes another six months.  In the meantime I’ll write and get really old. 

I’ll get the job I’m meant to get.  I hope.

Disclaimer: The following isn’t funny.  Well, you might find it funny if you’re a sadist (if you are - call me!). 

I had a job interview last Friday.  It was my fourth interview since I moved out to L.A. in February.  I’m beginning to think I’m a terrible interviewee.  The following have been the outcome of all of those interviews:

A) Got a rejection letter in the mail

or

B)  Got a rejection call

or

C) Just didn’t hear anything period

I got a rejection call this morning and I’ve been obsessing over how I responded to it ever since. I still had sleepy voice so I was embarrassed to be on the phone.  Our convo went like this:

Her: Hi, Nicole.  I’m calling to let you know that we went with someone else. Someone who has more production experience.

Me: Okay.

Her: Okay…

Me: Thanks for calling.  Have a nice day. 

Her: Bye.

*click*

I should have used that moment to tell her that if something went wrong with the other person to give me a call, right? I don’t know why I am so TERRIBLE at this job hunting/getting/interacting business.  It’s definitely something I need to perfect…or at least attempt to improve.  I know I could have done this damn job no problem.  It doesn’t take a scientist to do PA work. 

This job was seriously such a great opportunity.  It would have opened so (so so so so) many doors and now it’s gone.  I have no idea how on earth I will ever get another chance like this.  Gaaaah.  I wish I would have had a longer convo with her.  I just really wanted to get off that phone.  They didn’t pick me and that’s that.  I sent her a thank you note, so I’m happy I at least did that. 

I don’t know what to do with myself.  I don’t know where to start.  I guess a Starbucks or Wendy’s or H&M.  Maybe I’m not meant to be doing this… I’d like to think I am.  My heart says I need to be here doing this, but it’s my damn brain that always ruins things. Mostly ruins my self-worth. So dumb.

I need a damn job! But I want one that will help my career. This old fellow and I are sharing a face palm right now. 

Oh shut up, liar.