enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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I'm still a gloomy gus. :)

Oh good God I should not be writing an entry today. I've been crying off and on since I got home. I think I've hit rock bottom.

But the best thing about hitting rock bottom--for me, at least--is that I start to consciously, rationally think about how ludicrous the drama is and I start to talk myself out of it.

The long and the short of it is--and I don't know for sure--it does seem as though I screwed up that test that should have been a cakewalk. So I probably won't be getting that job.

The next miserable item on the agenda involves the specific competition that my boss suggested that I apply for. Unfortunately, a more qualified applicant from BU breezed in yesterday and decided that she wants it. Since she is currently writing a paper with someone quite famous, I can't compete. I'm technically kind of ticked off since I found out about her interest in the job through her asking me if she could use my Canadian address from which to apply. I also know that she wants to return to her home country in a year or two, so she doesn't even really want or need the job in the way that I do.

Sigh.

So that is life. Life is full of competition. And comparing yourself to others does you no good. My skills are quite different than hers, which means that this is not the ideal job for me, anyhow. But I need it.

I shouldn't complain. I have at least another four or five interviews upcoming. They trickle in each day. I just have to be patient. And try to get my current work done as best I can.

It just feels as though every which way I turn I get slapped in the face.

And every night when I get home I think about how kindly I was in dealing with the guy. I didn't make him sweat, particularly; from his last mail I suspect he has no idea that he should be feeling any guilt. All told, I want to scream. I want to beat his chest. But I know that it makes absolutely no difference in the end and that only I can heal myself. I also know that I can't make him feel remorse that he isn't naturally inclined to feel.

I'm tired and sorry. I shouldn't be so sorry. My life has been much, much worse at past junctures.

I skated the canal last night with Benoit. We didn't speak a word. I think he knows that I didn't get the job. (He works there.) He obviously didn't want to say anything. But I knew. And it hurt. And I didn't want to be with him. I skated so hard I think I nearly made his heart burst. We skated 14 km, in a personal record for him. Thank goodness for aerobic exercise--where would I be without it?

Cheese. Cheese will be my salvation this weekend. :)

7:42 p.m. - 2007-02-22

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