Newsflash: I don't have a job!

Ah, so this is what being a senior is. Staying up for two nights straight writing papers, stopping every 5 blocks for another cup of coffee so I can make it uptown for a job fair at which a big corporation tells me they'll take my resume but they're "not hiring but thanks for standing in line for hours on end and mmm, oh look they give me cookies for working here and putting up with unemployed college grads who haven't showered for two days." I need a break.

No wonder Jonathan sat at the bottom of the pool. If I had a fucking pool or any resemblance of a square foot of grass to myself, that is where I would have my post-graduation existential crisis. But I can't even have it because there is not enough room in this fucking city to do anything that requires stopping or heavily sighing while slowly shuffling your feet because you'll get run over by a cab or accosted by Children International people.

Speaking of cabs and since I've already said fuck in this post, I yelled at a car today that almost ran me over. I'm crossing the street with the walk sign and this car comes barreling through so I glare like "I am NOT going to stop AND my parents are lawyers." But he keeps coming and as he's passing, he looks out the window at me and says "Fuck you!" and I yell back "Fuck you too!" I don't do that ever. Never. And it was in the middle of Times Square...and I can't express it clearly now because I cut my coffee supply off, but it's something to do with almost dying while going to a corporate job fair that didn't even have jobs in the most corporate 9 blocks in America.

I get it, America, I'm unqualified. And I will die poor and alone. You didn't have to send a Lincoln Navigator barreling down 47th street to tell me that.


omg, this is so pathetically a quarter-life crisis. and i still haven't taken a shower. take this as the beginning of a Britney (but with a bachelors degree!) spiral downward...