Sunday, March 28, 2004
It's getting so that whenever anybody mentions graduation or post-college plans, I want to scratch their eyes out. Or alternately, vomit on their shoes. What is it about my alleged "graduation" that's making everybody so darned nosy? And that's not the worst. The worst is when people only ask about graduation as a segue to talking about themselves. Note to the world: I don't care how stressed or excited or fearful you are of your thrice-damned graduation. You know in "Two Weeks Notice" when Hugh Grant asks the big black lady when her baby's due, and she's like "What baby? WHAT BABY?!" -- that's totally me. I should start shouting "WHAT GRADUATION?!" when people ask me. Oh, the bitterness.
I have too much time to think. Especially on gorgeous days like today, when it's hot and sunny and the world just begs me to come outside, but I don't go because I can't think of anything to do. I've done it all, you see: beach, zoo, parks, museums, shopping, movies, driving aimlessly -- you name it. I'm tempted to venture further afield, like San Diego, but wtf? I can't just wander around forever (not that I wouldn't enjoy it). Eventually, money will have to be made, not spent. I finally beat out a resume, but I've been sitting on it. I know you can't just send your resume to people and wait for a job, but writing cover letters for all these jobs I've been looking at? Gah, it took me a month to do the resume, which is not even so hot. See, because you have to sell yourself in cover letters, and I'm a bad investment. I can't tell people I'm a brilliant worker and I'd be the best hire ever, it just feels like lying. I couldn't apply to William and Mary back in the day (like my parents wanted me to) because I'd rather have eaten my own thumbs than go there -- could you imagine me writing that in my essay? I doubt sending newspapers my resume with a note saying "I SUCK SO BAD AND I HATE MYSELF so hire me" would work very well at all.
So here I sit, with a stupid look on my face, wondering what's to become of me.
Current Music: Seatbelts, The Egg and I
Current Mood: staring into space again
I have too much time to think. Especially on gorgeous days like today, when it's hot and sunny and the world just begs me to come outside, but I don't go because I can't think of anything to do. I've done it all, you see: beach, zoo, parks, museums, shopping, movies, driving aimlessly -- you name it. I'm tempted to venture further afield, like San Diego, but wtf? I can't just wander around forever (not that I wouldn't enjoy it). Eventually, money will have to be made, not spent. I finally beat out a resume, but I've been sitting on it. I know you can't just send your resume to people and wait for a job, but writing cover letters for all these jobs I've been looking at? Gah, it took me a month to do the resume, which is not even so hot. See, because you have to sell yourself in cover letters, and I'm a bad investment. I can't tell people I'm a brilliant worker and I'd be the best hire ever, it just feels like lying. I couldn't apply to William and Mary back in the day (like my parents wanted me to) because I'd rather have eaten my own thumbs than go there -- could you imagine me writing that in my essay? I doubt sending newspapers my resume with a note saying "I SUCK SO BAD AND I HATE MYSELF so hire me" would work very well at all.
So here I sit, with a stupid look on my face, wondering what's to become of me.
Current Music: Seatbelts, The Egg and I
Current Mood: staring into space again
