This past Saturday night after one too many, I found myself sitting on my living room couch composing a list entitled, "Should these things be important to me now?"
1. Owning a nice set of silverware?
2. I think I should get one of those clear plastic Amex cards.
3. Pet Trainer -- infommerical; $19.95; sends ultrasonic sound that makes dog pay attention.
Entirely absent from the list were more important items such as:
1. What are you doing next year?
2. Don't you need to find a job?
3. Why are you wasting your time writing up stupid lists?
I've been rejected from everything that I have applied for so far. While being 0-for-2 isn't terrible, it is still a pretty shitty way to start out the season. To all the people who already have jobs -- I hate you. To all the people who don't -- let's say "Fuckin' hell" and take another shot of Jack.
Earlier in my college career I was plagued by the seemingly endless possibilities of what I could do with my life after graduation. Each day I would add another potential career to the list. These notions ranged from movie producer to being that guy who makes mix CD's for the Gap. But faced with the reality of employment, I'm vascillating. Currently, I'm thinking that maybe I shouldn't move to New York next year.
Maybe I'm not meant to work in the magazine industry. My mind turns. I consider graduate school, the Peace Corps, or maybe just holing up in my apartment and becoming a hermit.
My roomate has other ideas: the American Tasting Insititute. For those of you unfamiliar with the ATI, here's a lesson. The American Tasting Institute is (according to a press release on coffee-mate.com) is "a private organization comprised of 35,000 professional chefs who conduct regular judgings of consumer and foodservice products and host the annual consumer product awards every year at Carnegie Hall in New York City." While I'm a little worried about landing a job at the ATI as I am not a chef, my roommate's negating this little detail. "They must need some administrative people. I'll just invite them out to lunch. Point out the high sodium content, but the great wheaty taste, then offer to make some copies. Then they'll be like, 'Oh my God, you are an untapped resource.'" As she exclaims, "This mouth and I are taking it to the top." Amen sister. Can I bum a ride?
