I was working on a long post about how I think it's absolutely fine if Jodie Foster doesn't want to publicly say she's a lesbian, but then I took a break from it to go call about the two jobs I was waiting to hear from at Northwestern. Aaaand,
surprise! I didn't get one of them (the one I actually wanted), and wasn't able to talk to the woman who interviewed me for the other one.
It's September, which means I've been looking for a new job for nine months. (See, employers? I have excellent math skills.)
(Just as an aside, I'd like to state that other than this miserable job search, and the fact that it's still really hot here and I sit in my apartment and sweat a lot, everything in my life is going splendidly. Just to fill you in.)
I have a few immediate options: eating
my feelings my pop-tarts, calling my mom, scouring Craigslist for part time retail positions, or listening to The Weakerthans.
It is highly likely that I will drop-kick a DePaul student today.
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