It started off as a week full of so much hope and promise...but as with many things, don't blink because you'll miss it. By Friday I was a broken shell of myself. I was someone I hadn't been in 3 years, not since the first week of University. I had hoped that those dark times would never come upon me, but reality hit, and hit hard.
The beginning of the week ushered in good news. My final exam wasn't horrific enough to squander my "A" in Management Science and there was the possibility of me marking for the Prof next year for that class, if I remember to remind him in December.
My horoscope for Monday, April 25th read like this:
You're still thinking nonstop about how to get the heck out of whatever financial/work-related situation you're in by turning your hobby into your career. Well, do your homework. In just a few weeks, you could be ready.
And then I got an email from an actual person at Nike telling me to reapply for a posting once it was modified.
The two previous items combined for a swelling of hope in my deflated heart. Maybe I would finally get my release from the evil, soul-sucking grasps of the TTC.
Also on Monday, the people at the ad agency where I've been interning asked me about my future plans, one hinted at the possibility of SFP hiring for the summer, another spoke of contacts that she had in the States (Chicago more specifically) that she would be more than willing to provide.
Things were definitely looking up on the job front.
Tuesday through Thursday went by without a hitch. Nothing new, nothing old, just the same old story.
Then came Friday.
Both of my breakdowns have come on Fridays. So maybe the TGIF saying doesn't really apply to me.
By Friday, the job horizon looked the same as it did in weeks prior - the TTC was beckoning in a manner similar to the Sauron's Eye in the Lord of the Rings. It was drawing me nearer and I was powerless to stop it. So I called to see exactly how bad things were going to be. I had anticipated very strict monitoring of external communications (ie. emails to friends, surfing the Internet), what I found out was
much worse.
Turns out that my supervisor, Darren (a fabulous supervisor and all-around cool guy) is going away on a project for FIFTEEN months. That's a VERY long time. A very long time for anyone to be stuck with Victoria, his anal-retentive, back-stabbing assistant supervisor. If you look to the 3rd floor of TTC headquarters there's a chance that there will be a mass exodus of employees jumping out of the window (yes, she's that bad).
To make matters worse, I don't know what I'm doing once I get there. They have a transitional worker helping out Stan (something another summer student usually did) and they hired a temporary worker to do the ticket refunds (something I assumed that I was doing). No one is on vacation yet so it's not like I'm doing their invoices for them. I also have no where to sit, the transitional worker and the temporary worker are occupying the two of the three cubicles we held last year and the last cubicle now houses a microwave.
In summary, I'm in a job I hate, making less than I'm worth, without a desk, phone, computer and things to do!!!!!!
I'm going to beg Darren to take me wherever he's going.
Needless to say, I'm depressed. I feel as though poor planning and lack of luck has ruined my professional life. In an attempt to ease the pain/bleeding, I have re-modified my resume and am continuing to apply for stuff.
What I need now more than ever is an American husband. I need the citizenship. I'm in the
WRONG country for the type of work I want to do and the industry I want to be in. Anyone know of any good prospects for me?
Oh yeah, and the omnimous horoscope for Friday read like this:
If there is something you really don't like, you have several choices. You can try to change it, you can try to get away from it, or you can learn, somehow, to live with it. The last method may not be especially attractive, but it is possible and may have many hidden benefits.
After reading that, I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, so I started balling. So much so that I forgot to call Muchmusic for wristbands to see Chad Michael Murray. And that just about gives you an indication of my current state of mind.
Not good. Not good at all.
