Last week, I wrote a blog with optimistic intentions. I thought I would turn this little-read, weekly blog into a regular chronicling of the next chapter of my life for my friends and family to read. Good intention, I thought.
But since this vague, promissory blog, I written no extra blogs and meeting my weekly, Tuesday deadline by finally writing Friday. Watch out journalism, here I come!
The truth is I’ve had plenty to say, and I’m sure I could make the time, but I didn’t. However, once the smoke has cleared from this whole end of school/looking for a job/saying goodbye to friend/moving/maintaining my sanity thing, then I’m sure I’ll be an extraordinary blogger with only interesting and regularly posted things to write.
It has been an interesting almost-two weeks for me. Two days after my let-down of a post, I was going nuts. I mean, seriously nuts. I know I have a tendency to be – let’s just call it spirited – at times, but this was a new level. I was hyperventilating, I was near tears, I was shouting at myself in the bathroom mirror. “Buck up, Flaherty! You can do this! You’re awesome! You’ve got way more relevant experience than those freaks at Harvard!”
That’s right, job searching. I’d never much enjoyed it when I was filling out mindless applications for minimum-wage work, but I wasn’t aware what grown-up job searching was. It’s a methodical, endless task of extracting every possible quality you may have to a prospective employer, putting yourself out there with little return never knowing what you did wrong and knowing that in this faltering economy, there are hundreds of people more qualified than you applying for the same job (and I’m not necessarily exaggerating; some of the internships I applied for literally get thousands of applicants for one spot).
And with my personal natural insanity is further mixed with the special qualities of journalism. What clips should I use? How can I sum up in a cover letter that I’m qualified, creative, awesome, exactly what they’re looking for and write it in a way that is short, to-the-point and not too creative?
To sum up, it hurt my soul. Through the tears and anger at my parents for not being well-connected, East coast socialites with Ivy League, I got some key applications in on time. Hooray.
Over the next few days, I calmed down. Then I got a spectacular e-mail. A prestigious political magazine I had applied to actually wanted to know what my availability was! The excitement, though seemingly mundane, was just what I needed. Even if I don’t get an interview, among a trillion applications, they took the time to consider mine. I’m considerable!
In the end, this dramatic pendulum swing from insane worrying and wild contentment seems like it’s just going to be in the works for old Colleen here. At least it’ll keep things interesting.