I didn’t get the Bon Appetit job after all. It turns out none of the 10-15 people they interviewed got it. They decided to go with someone entirely else. Meaning the son, daughter, niece or nephew of someone big who needed a job. Fuck nepotism. Unless it works in my favor dammit.
Since Bon Appetit I’ve been temping, applying for other jobs, going on some interviews and found out I could potentially be sick. What disease? I’m not sure yet because since I had my ANA blood test over a month ago, which tested positive, I just NOW get to see the rheumatologist next week. Yeah, an entire fucking month. Damn, the health care system in this country. I’m moving to Sweden.
So, as happy as I try to be life is a little downer right now. I am broke-ass poor and don’t know where my rent money is coming next month. I have bills up the wahoo and accumulating more because of medical stuff. The forecast looks bleak. I’m tired and exhausted of trying to sell myself to companies that probably don’t care jackshit for me. The more and more I look the more fed up I get at the jobs in the communications field. All these exploitative, unpaid “internships” and $23,000 a year jobs if you’re lucky. I don’t want to answer your phones, I don’t want to fold your t-shirts, I don’t want to order your lunch, I don’t want to vacuum burnt skin cells and I don’t want to unpack your shit. I just want a job that will mean something to me and to someone else. I want to make a difference. I want to write. This feels GREAT.