I graduated from university earlier this year. I know, what an exciting time! No more preparing presentation about sex tourism and discussing about Foucauldian discourse analysis, or essays on behavior in public place a la Goffman.
It's an amazing feeling to accomplish something that you thought you bound to fail. That lasted for a good 5 hours, it worn out and got replaced with this immense fear of your uncertain future.
I moved to Berlin now, like million of privileged 'millenials' (ugh I know, milleanials..) trying to find ourselves while clutching Clubmate under our armpit, sucking on rollies while navigating our way down Weserstrasse. It's been fun, an endless buffet of beard / tattoo / manbun combo, a never ending summer, girls who look like they belong on Tumblr, pale ales and Sterni, Instagram worthy arty bars slash art space, coffee, I could go on..
Deep inside I am constantly trying to distract myself of this unemployment, or loss of sense of direction.. funny how your future could not be located via Google Map.
I don't send mass application. Because I am a picky bastard. I know I couldn't afford to be picky. Last Thursday I attended an assessment center thinking this will be it.
Finally I can afford to live on my own at a cute little one room apartment, maybe in Neukölln or Prenzlauerberg (although let's be realistic, it's most probably Moabit or Wedding). Finally I can buy roses every few days, that YSL lipstick I always wanted and a flight home, Bali vacation. Anyway, I didn't get the job --which shattered my heart in million pieces. It's my fault though I got carried away.
You see a recruiting process is a like dating. We were sending email back and worth, even gotten to have a video chat, I had my expectations, I thought they were the one. I thought they'd want me too. Well they don't.
I am okay now though. Ok, who am I kidding, I'm still sad. They took the life I wanted. It was so close, I could almost taste it. But like a heart break, once you loved someone, you know that you will be able to love again. And maybe they're not the right one anyway. This is all for the best.
This is a bad metaphor, isn't it?
So yes, despite my colorful looking social media feeds, I am broke and hella unemployed. Hire me?