One year and one month ago I got a phone call. I had landed my dream job. Since I was 13 years old, I had wanted to move to New York and work for a magazine. It was finally happening. After a seemingly endless stream of failed interviews, I had finally gotten one right. I skipped down 8th Avenue with the song "Suddenly I See" (from the Devil Wears Prada? Ok, yeah, I know I'm a nerd...) playing in my head. Life was good.
Then, on January 29th, my boss called me into her office. I brought a notepad and pen thinking she'd be explaining some new assignment. Instead she told me my days there were limited. I felt like she slapped me in the face. I tried to force myself to be professional, but the tears came anyway. The next few days felt like I was dealing with a horrible breakup. I had been dumped, and it was awful.
I continued working for 6 weeks. It seemed like they wanted to just drag it on as long as possible. But I wasn't really in the position to complain. Hell, I needed the money!
I finally had my drink-your-face-off send-off with my fav coworkers on Friday night, and now I'm officially not working. Well...not working in an office. I'm working on finding my next dream job. (Or, just my next source of income...) Oh, and watching reruns of America's Next Top Model. Right now the goal is to stick with my dream and stay in the industry. We'll see what happens...
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