I am not good at taking rejection. It’s one reason why I never asked anybody out in high school (or ever), why I went to a local school instead of putting my hat in the ring for a more prestigious university, why I am always super-nice to people, even when I don’t like them. (Except you. I totally like you.)
This is why I chose to go into writing. It’s such a supportive, warm-and-fuzzy ambition with little possibility of rejection.
So I’m not really upset I didn’t get this job I interviewed for on Wednesday. Really, I’m not. An hour-and-a-half commute into the heart of L.A. – or as I affectionately refer to it, “The Bowels of Traffic Hell” – is not my idea of spending precious time wisely. My writing would suffer, among other things like my mental health and my marriage. I’ve done that commute before, and I was a shrieking harpy every single day. Have you ever lived with a shrieking harpy? It’s not pleasant.
Also, I would be working with financial documents. I don’t know about you, but financial documents are just about zzzzzzzzzz…
Okay, so even though I’m not upset I didn’t get this job, there’s still a sting. An I’m not good enough feeling that’s hard to shake off, like burrs stuck in your socks. It makes me a bit sad-faced. Especially since I’m supposed to be good at the job for which I applied.
At least they got back to me. Most places don’t even do me the courtesy of a form “Thanks-But-No-Thanks” email.
Even so, I think that the least a prospective employer could do is send you flowers. Rejection flowers, if you will. Or chocolates. Or popsicles (it’s hot here). Or a haiku. A nice rejection haiku. It might go something like this:
We think you’re a catch
But you’re not quite the right match
Best of luck to you.
See? That took me all of 40 seconds to write. It would hardly put anyone out. I guess I shouldn’t judge, though. Not everyone is a poet.
But you get the idea. Rejection needs to be delivered with a spoonful of sugar, or at the very least a cup of coffee, because if you’re looking for work, you’re getting a megaton of rejection and you need all the energy you can get to continue the slog through job boards and other instruments of job-seeking torture. I see why people give up and drop out of the work force. Daily demoralization is not for the faint of heart.
I’m actually learning to let it roll off my back a bit more. It obviously wasn’t the right fit for me, so what do I care if they reject me (I tell myself every fifteen minutes or so)? The right job will come. I just have to have faith. That is one aspect of my life that is growing exponentially, at least. Faith is becoming vastly important for my day-to-day activities. Without it, I surely would have taken to the streets to perform my miming skills for nickels and condoms.
In the meantime, I’m going to keep writing more rejection haikus. I think there might be a market for that in this economy.
Thanks for your effort
Though it wasn’t meant to be
Your skills impressed us.