I've got a job interview tomorrow. It's my seventh since the end of the spring semester. And, if you'll permit me a moment to check... according to my trusty records, I've sent out roughly 95 applications in the last four months.
I'm not sure how I feel about this situation.
Okay, that's a little white lie. I'm glossing it over a bit. Of course I feel like crap, like everyone else in this situation. At least I've sort of got the cover of (sort of*) being in grad school; I'm expected to be chronically poor, and hey, at least I've got plenty of practice living the shabby chic lifestyle of the perpetual student. Right? Right?
The problem is, not only am I broke, but I'm feeling pretty downright worthless. Job-hunting is incredibly ego-bruising, as any non-nepotist can attest. But a small, sour part of myself has discovered a unique depth to this worthlessness: I feel a little like a hypocrite.
I've written plenty--and by written, I suppose I mean complained--about my undergraduates' perceived sense of entitlement. They worked hard in high school, they stayed up all night on this assignment, they've never missed a class... so they deserve an A, no? Well, it's hard for me not to see certain parallels between that attitude and my own during these past few months.
I worked f**cking hard in college. I graduated first in my class. I gave a speech and got a plaque and had the dean say nice things about me in front of hundreds of people. And then I got over it when all that work didn't get me into the graduate programs I wanted; I got in somewhere--not even a bad somewhere--and that was enough. And they paid me to go there.
On top of that, I managed to squeeze in a few awesome internships during my last two years as an undergrad. I've worked summers and I've worked part-time and I know more than one database management program. FileMaker Pro! Raiser's Edge! Access! Yes!
And yet here I am, about to go into yet another round of interviews. Still unemployed. Didn't I do everything right? Didn't I go to a top-tier university, and then grad school, and didn't I find the time to get plenty of office admin experience? Don't I have nice references from impressive-sounding people? So... where's my nice job offer?
I know the economy's in the toilet. I don't live under a rock. It's not like I'm expecting all my dreams to come true--even if Prince Harry is currently single. But damn, son. I've been turned down for minimum-wage jobs. I've been strung along for weeks by prospective employers who'd been too chicken to give me straight answers. I've gone in for meetings, gotten the good vibe, and never heard back. I've ritually scanned the postings and absorbed countless tidbits of Internet wisdom. I've borrowed money from my non-millionaire parents and let my non-royal boyfriend pay most of the rent.
So, yeah, I've been battling this entitlement issue from an angle I hadn't anticipated when I wrapped up my teaching gig in May. Back then, whatever sins my students were committing, surely I was innocent. Surely I knew better. Surely I was still destined for greatness, thanks to my elbow grease and naturally effervescent wit.
Sigh.
* I've taken a leave of absence from my program, because... yeah.
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