When Tobias and I were younger, little dude had an anthology of zombie stories. I’m afraid of zombies (LOOK, I KNOW), so the cover really upset me. In a more neurotic, completely nonsense way, I was also scared of the (WHOLLY IMPOSSIBLE) idea that the book might come to life. After awhile, Tobias gave the book away to one of our friends and I felt better.
Flash-forward several years: I recently made the mistake of telling Marc about Afterlife with Archie. He just bought the first five issues. I’m not sure if that alone upsets me, as much as the possibility that he won’t get that it’s not intended to be funny.
Sometimes, I want to tell the temp in my office that she reminds me a lot of myself when I was her age. She truly does- similar personality, approach to work attire, social patterns. I feel like I’m in a position to offer the guidance that I could have used back when I was a temp. I want to tell her how similar I think we are.
But I’m worried that will make her cry.
So I went to the career fair after all.
I was nervous and sweaty and wasn’t certain where exactly I should go, but I did it, anyway, and it worked out well. I followed up even harder about the university position and picked up leads for more jobs. Ultimately, it didn’t really matter what I was wearing or that I didn’t have a resume to leave behind. Winning a fight against my anxiety and making job progress really felt like a victory.
A small victory, to be sure, but a victory all the same in what have been weeks of frayed nerves and despair.
Apply for a job with the university from which you recently graduated.
Stop by campus on your day off to follow up with someone in Human Resources.
Signs posted everywhere advertise the Spring Career Fair.
You are neither dressed for interviews, nor in possession of any copies of your resume.
There. Now you and I are having the same day.