Fifty-six weeks. Over a year of searching, applying, waiting, and hoping. I knew finding a job wouldn’t be easy, but I never imagined it would take this long. One interview this week. Another chance. Another hope. But no call back—at least, not yet. I’ve filled out more applications than I can count. I’m pretty sure I’ve applied to the same job multiple times, like a goldfish swimming around the bowl and getting excited about the same castle every lap. Every morning, I wake up, check job boards, refresh my email, and send out another round of resumes. Some days, it feels like screaming into the void. Other days, it feels like the void is screaming back, laughing at my futile attempts. It’s easy to get discouraged. The longer the search drags on, the louder the doubts become. Maybe I’m not good enough. Maybe I’m wasting my time. Maybe I should just stop looking, stop hoping, stop trying. Maybe I should take up interpretive dance or start a farm with a single goat and a dream. But ...
an aspiring Poet, Thoughts from the Heart, Write on a number of Topics just found that I can write