I know this blog is supposed to be about trying to make my dreams come true, but tonight I'm wondering if mine have crashed too many times.
I've been searching for a job for over year now, rarely getting nibbles. And when I do, oh, does my writer's mind create a life for me. My most recent involved an internship at a good company, who hires 68% of their interns full time. I was gonna get a position as a copywriter intern working for their blog this summer and commute with a high school friend, and then get hired full time, and move out. My life would get rolling and things would be good.
You know, until I get a call this afternoon saying sorry, no internship.
And hey, I had a moment of sadness, but then I was over it. Just like rejections from markets, you move on to the next one.
But then dinner with the family came around, I shared my news with my parents, and they went on this whole triad about how they're sorry, they know I wanted it, had been counting on it (I'd been through two phone interviews and submitted writing samples, been in contact with this company since October, and live near by). My response, I shrugged, told them there's no reason for them to be sorry as it's not their fault, and continued to do what I was doing.
But then they pointed out I should be feeling down, I should be upset, and I'm not. Not really. And it makes me wonder if I've just seen too many potential plans form and fail. Oh, I'll still keep building them, I need to be published after all. But so many dreams have crumbled and I'm used it to. Used to it. I'm fucking used to dreams and plans falling apart to the point where I don't really care anymore. How sad is that?
I have my writing though. Or did. Until my father pointed out that I probably didn't get the internship because they didn't like my writing. And for case study I had to do for an interview (different company) that he read over, he didn't like my writing either. And hey, I understand there's a difference between business and fiction writing, but writing is my life and what I hope to make a livelihood out of, I apply to jobs where writing is a heavy task. And when some who's opinion really matter tells you your skill aren't good and maybe you should pursue a different path, that hurts. A lot.
Because I don't have any other skills other than writing. (And thanks Dad, for not suggesting one to me either) What the fuck am I suppose to do with myself now? How can I build a life on nothing? My other interests also revolve around the arts, and whoa, a Fine Arts degree is totally gonna help me more than a Communications one. *rolls eyes* And no way I can be a teacher for life.
I feel absolutely lost right now. *bitter laugh* Like I hit a brick wall and was shot through the wing at the same, and am now lying on the ground looking for something I can use as a splint.
Sorry, so sorry for rambling and ranting and swearing and dumping all this stuff. But the nights been awful, it's late, I'm all hormonal, the house lacks good chocolate, and these stupid tears are just now drying as I've finished this post cuz writing has always made me feel better in the past.
Usually, as right now I can't bear to work on any of my WIPs like my normal catharsis outing. And I figured that if I disappear for a while you guys should have a bit of a reason.