I had a moment earlier in which I felt the creepings-on of panic. Not your average everyday ol' panic, mind you, but the specific sort that comes along when I am feeling particularly claustrophobic. Now what made this ultra odd was that at the moment of said panic tinglings, I was thinking about the city as a whole and my place in it. You know, things that when put to scale would seem to evoke the opposite of claustrophobia.
If I imagine doing what I am doing now for much longer than the immediate future I get that feeling. To attribute it to the city is somewhat wrong, but now that I have been applying to things with all the bells and whistles put on and still receive no response...it doesn't seem like the city wants me. But now I have the imminent arrival of my childhood friend, coming out to the big city to stake her own claim at independence. So I feel a bit like I shouldn't just up and leave, though again, at this point the idea of doing what I am doing is making me ill.
I could bemoan (and have aloud quite a bit) the fact that I have a degree and it means all of nothing, benefits me not one iota. Or that my job experience also seems to be lackluster and undeserving of and other position than the automaton that my higher ups would like me to be. Oh it is the social climate, the employment crisis, it is difficult for everyone, I'm lucky to have any job. Maybe if I keep telling myself that or hearing it from others it will mean something different, add up to something other than the fact that I am twenty three and unhappy with what I am doing with my life.
If I imagine doing what I am doing now for much longer than the immediate future I get that feeling. To attribute it to the city is somewhat wrong, but now that I have been applying to things with all the bells and whistles put on and still receive no response...it doesn't seem like the city wants me. But now I have the imminent arrival of my childhood friend, coming out to the big city to stake her own claim at independence. So I feel a bit like I shouldn't just up and leave, though again, at this point the idea of doing what I am doing is making me ill.
I could bemoan (and have aloud quite a bit) the fact that I have a degree and it means all of nothing, benefits me not one iota. Or that my job experience also seems to be lackluster and undeserving of and other position than the automaton that my higher ups would like me to be. Oh it is the social climate, the employment crisis, it is difficult for everyone, I'm lucky to have any job. Maybe if I keep telling myself that or hearing it from others it will mean something different, add up to something other than the fact that I am twenty three and unhappy with what I am doing with my life.
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