I forgot how to fail
It’s been six months and still no full time job. I’ve been scraping by freelance gigs and a very VERY part time job and I’m just so thankful that my rent is disgustingly cheap even if I do have to share it with the most voracious bunny in all of the land (IT CHEWED THROUGH THE SPINE OF FIVE BOOKS, A FAKE LEATHER BAG BUT MY BAG NONETHELESS, A RUG RACHEL GOT ME TWO BIRTHDAYS AGO, MY MINNIE RIPERTON VINYL COVER THAT COST ME FOUR BUCKS BUT STILL, ETC. FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS I GET IT. ALSO HATE THE TERM FIRST WORLD PROBLEMS).
I had three interviews lined up within a week of each other and I was flying high on the possibilities like, It’s FINALLY HERE. FUCK YES. And then I found last week that I didn’t get any of the jobs and so add that to the list of I-stopped-counting-how-many-rejections. Of course, I’m crying and freaking out because money and I just want a stable job like every person out there and to be comfortable and….
Right now it’s hard for me to be happy for my friends’ successes even though they deserve them and they worked hard for them all the same. And I know what is posted on Facebook or Instagram is a highlight reel but, man, does it mess with your mind. I should completely do away with my Facebook. That shit is awful. Facebook bought Occulus for a billion dollars. Just put me away on a farm already! I’m done.
But then I had this moment last Friday, walking to Target to pick up the pills I get discounted because I actually have health insurance now, where I had my headphones in and it finally felt like summer, and I slowly accepted what was happening. I thought, “OMG I failed but I didn’t die. I DIDN’T DIE.” Yeah, OMG. That is really what I thought. I realize this sounds soooo dramatic and let’s have an Oprah chai but, guys, I’m alive and I’m ok! I forgot what it feels like to make yourself vulnerable and then flop a big ole turd.
The whole moment took me back a year ago when I took improv classes and we were encouraged to fail to the top. I remember so many times coming up with weak stuff in the beginning and overanalyzing every bit even though that scene will NEVER HAPPEN AGAIN. Literally, I’d stay up all night replaying every scene to see what I could’ve done differently and then be embarrassed in private, hoping that people still want to do scenes with me or think I’m funny.
So back I go failing my way to the top. Not that I ever really left. The job looking/applying process has never stopped. But GODDAMN does it need to.