I'm going to get serious for a minute.
I was recently asked if I ever get tired. Tired of the search. Tired of the school. Tired of being "on" all the time. The answer? Of course. Of course you get tired of working so hard for so long just to get a little recognition and find yourself in a good job.
Think about it. In high school I worked hard to get into a good college. I thought that would be the end. But it's not. In college, you work hard to get a good job. So, in a sense, you're working hard in high school to get a good job, too. And then, I assume, you work hard at your job so you get more money, more responsibility, and more houses in Beverly Hills next to Will Smith.
Who doesn't get tired?
It seems to get magnified in these leaps from one era to another. In high school, when applying for college, I was always tired. The day that I found out I got into my university, I was in bed, asleep, skipping school because I was so tired that I had made myself a little sick. IB classes, AP classes, projects, finals, social pressure--it just got to be too much. When I found out that I had made it in, it seemed like there was an elation in my life and I could deal with those classes, those projects, and those exams. Little did I know that four years later I would be in the same place, but an even larger culmination of my life: a job.
I imagine that, when I get a job (hope hope hope), that it'll feel the same way that it did when I got into college. I'll feel a sense of comfort and stability, at least for the foreseeable future, and I'll be able to sit down and actually enjoy a glass of wine.
The truth is, it's a lot of work to find a job. Those of you who are looking know this to be true. It's a lot of work. You have to update your resume, find places to send them, send them, wait for responses, follow up, wait for responses, follow up, wait, wait, wait, interview, wait, interview, wait, wait, and you hope the end point isn't a stock rejection letter. If it is, then it just makes you want to give up.
That's why I'm always "on." If I ever turn off, which is sort of what I'm doing writing this blog entry, if I ever turn off, then reality swiftly smacks me in the face and shows me that my resume isn't as good as a lot of people's, my skills aren't as honed as some, and my connections aren't as good as I'm to believe they are. Everyone else seems to calm, so collected. Some people already have offers. They know where their lives are going. Where will mine go? Where will I be, not just in five or ten years, but in five or ten months?
Uncertainty is not a comforting feeling. In some cases it can be fun: traveling in Southeast Asia, going out on the town for an adventure, getting lost in the concrete jungle. Uncertainty in contained physical aspects such as those is fine. But when you are uncertain about your future, where you're going to be, and if you'll even be doing well enough for yourself to live off of your livelihood, I don't care who you are: it's not comforting.
You have to be "on" to come out of this with all of your neurons intact. You need to be "on" to keep yourself going on through it. You need to be "on" if you're going to trick yourself into believing you are more comfortable than reality would have you believe.
Sometimes, you are down. But soon after, flip that switch or you ain't getting out of that sand trap you've set for yourself.
