Adventures in jobland
http://www.flickr.com/photos/ajawin/ / CC BY 2.0
They continued on the road to Puerto Lápice, and about three in the afternoon it came into view.
“Here,” said Don Quixote when he saw it, “we can, brother Sancho Panza, plunge our hands all the way up to the elbows into this thing they call adventures.”
-”Don Quixote” by Miguel de Cervantes
A friend loaned me a pile of books to read over the Christmas holiday, a few weeks ago. At the last minute, he threw Cervantes on top and I started fumbling for an excuse not to take it.
I’m as game for tales of knights-errant as the next gal, but the 940-page epic seemed too big of a commitment for the holidays. Plus, I started reading it years ago and couldn’t really connect.
“This is a great translation,” my friend insisted. “You’ll think it’s really funny, I promise.”
As he predicted, I’ve been delightedly consuming it and inflicting the best passages on whichever family member happens to be sitting closest. But the one above resonated in particular.
Don Quixote is a bit of a kindred spirit, save for the unreasonable delusions and deteriorating mental state. I like how he strikes out with no real plan except to react bravely and valliantly to the circumstances he meets along the road. My way, too, has always been to just sally forth in search of what I want, taking the adventures and windmills as they come. Somehow it’s always works out– in one magically unexpected way or another.
My job search is no ripe peach. It’s been disheartening and frustrating and seemingly endless. I can’t imagine a worse drain on one’s self esteem than to face rejection and silence over and over for things you barely want– unpaid internships, minimum-wage jobs in expensive cities.
But there’s another, more buoyant side to all of that. I can’t even guess what’s next for me and it’s an exhilarating reminder that my life could change at any moment. With just one right phone call, e-mail, interview. I’ve had at least one preliminary interview for a job I would love to have.
To steal a note from one of the best scenes from arguably the best music journalism film of our time:
“It’s all happening.”
And I’m digging in up to my elbows.
