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The Last Straw
Entry 41 of 50 | show all | print this entry |
Once again I went to Hotlines and tried to get hold of John; once again he wasn't bothered to show up to our prearranged meeting (I thought). Seems like that's a bust.
Annette from I.C.E. called after lunch. (Lunch in Ireland is from 1 to 2.) I didn't get the university job. The client had looked at 5 CV's, and done 2 interviews of which I was one. And picked the other person. For a job that involved sticking students' disks into a computer and hitting "Print." A 50-50 chance at a remedial job, and I couldn't even get that.
That was it. I made the decision: I'm going home. I felt badly about it...the stigma of failure, of getting to tell everyone repeatedly that I couldn't make it. Of facing my friends here who did get jobs, and my friends back home who wished they were the ones going off to Europe. But the signs were very clear: I wasn't going to get anywhere, and continuing to try was just hurting me over and over. I phoned Arvin and he was supportive, as always. (I would have phoned Mom, but she was at work.) It was a momentous decision and one that made me feel weak-kneed, but there was nothing else I could do. I had no resilience to try again elsewhere in Ireland or the U.K. I had fought so long (probably too long), but now it was over.
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