Reason To Write

***

I do not really know how many days have passed since I sent or posted my very first resume. It would have been swell if I knew, but well, in life, nothing is ideal. So what is new?

I checked my email inbox for countless times today, hoping against hope that something would drop in and send rays of light into my soul. For the past eight hours or so, I only received one email and the name of the sender, which went along the lines of “HR Dept” sounded the knell of doom. So, my umpteenth rejection letter came, alongside another one of those “I don’t know how to break the news to you after your interview, so I will leave you guessing until you get it” ploy some HR from another company played on me. Sometimes, I do wish they still had that Courtesy Lion around.

Six months have passed since I got my butt cracking on sending out job applications seriously. Every other day during these months, I would go through a whole gamut of emotions, which at times, resembled more like a roller-coaster ride than anything else. Now, besides being rejected for dates, I am being rejected by corporate organizations as well. So, I have to deal with two types of rejection now, one about my "date-ability" and another about my employability.

Everything culminated into the desperate act of messaging anyone I could think of to express my desperate pleas for any available job openings a few days ago. Most of the good people who received my messages responded. Some gave me bits of hope. Others simply reminded how dire the job market was at the moment. Through no fault of anyone, only one or two could connect me with people from job agencies. A few emails sent out and some calls made later, I found myself still staring into the deep and dark abyss. Sooner or later, I would have to choose from staying on and allowing myself to plunge deeper into the emotional quagmire, or quitting and putting myself at risk of greater emotional upheaval for resigning without getting another job, or going absolutely mad and eradicating the effects of the nice little pill known as Prozac.

To think that last evening, I spent almost a good part of 40 minutes recounting my dire situation to a group of people. Granted that most of them were also thinking of quitting their current jobs (although there can never be a basis for comparison on who the more desperate ones were), but in return, I received what seemed like a 30-minute lecture from the lot of them. Yes, they were dishing out well-meaning advice, but (perhaps this is my pride speaking) none of it was something I had never heard of. I wished they had offered practical help, which I thought were things like vetting my resume or to give views on where my job application process could have gone wrong, instead of telling me the kind of perspective I should adopt during this dire time. I am grateful for their concern. The thing is a big part of me was wishing how things could have been a little less theoretical.

The lady from a job agency whom I called yesterday exclaimed that my 30-odd applications with her company was a little on the low side. This was despite the fact that I explained to her how I had been sending out applications which were advertised in the Classifieds as well, and that out of the numerous postings her company listed, it would be a little inappropriate for me to apply for openings which called for those with Masters or PhD qualifications.

So, until I really see the light (and not some false mirage) coming from the other end of the tunnel, my holiday plans have to be shelved indefinitely and I would wake up embracing dread every morning.

***

Throughout these six months, 90% of the time, it felt as though I had been abandoned by everyone and everything else. It seemed like the world moved on while I was being left very far behind. In a society, where the loss of two years of one’s youth through conscription meant loads to many out there in terms of the rat race, the pressure to simply bring enough of the dough home was immense. Whenever I was tempted to type in “formats of resignation letters” in search engines just to perk myself up a little, a copy of the previous month’s utilities bill or the invoice from the mobile phone company would flash in my mind. Then, I was reminded of the online conversation with the ex-sarong kebaya girl which left me a little stunned when she said “What do you want me to do?”

I am aware that during these dark times, I have to find things to be happy about in the midst of all the gloom. It is human nature to think about the “what it should have been”s and “how nice it would be if…”s. Yet, the very thought of these would plummet me deeper into despair.

Being jobless here is no laughing matter. Holding onto a job which is killing you softly is not all that better either.

So this issue is doing my self-esteem no good and it is not helping me in getting out from this prolonged rut.

I do not know what to do anymore. I just want to know what is so wrong with me.