Where Do I Begin

So I have a call back for next Wednesday, and I should be unconditionally giddy right now. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great news for me, and I’m rather sure that I can do well. But I still can’t shake this sad bastard mode, and my friends are beginning to let me know that they’re getting sick of it. Can’t say that I blame them.

During both college and law school, I was a magnet for some of the more unstable students. I guess I have a kind face (which is inversely proportional to the amount of pull you get with the ladies – but that’s a different rant). I was socially inept in middle school (dork, nerd – stereotypical booksmart immigrant kid whose parents told him school was for learning, not for socialization) but somehow learned to put on a face and at least get by as normal by the time I graduated from high school. So I could empathize with the spazzes I met after high school. Since they saw me hanging out with folks who could dress themselves and didn’t begin conversations with “my therapists says,” it’s no wonder I had many a phone session listening to the reason why she’ll never get back on prozac again, how life is cruel, and many a sundry of topics that are more suited to badly written poetry by fourteen-year-old Goth chicks.

As I said, part of me understood where they were coming from. If I took two steps back, I’d be back in misery as well. But after a while, I got fucking sick of them. My attitude was I changed without any help, so you guys should just deal and leave me alone.

Karmic payback is a bitch.

For the past two months, I’ve been frustrated with my life and not a little depressed. I thought I was going to have life sorted by now – figured out what I wanted to do with my life, have a girlfriend, and be, if not happy, at least content. But instead I’m actually hoping to get back into a career that I hate, the night I thought was magical and gave me a brief bit of hope everyone else thinks was nothing – just a woman being friendly and me typically blowing things out of proportion, and I go to sleep wondering where the hell I’m going with my life.

So now I’m the miserable sod on the phone or on the e-mail moping, and my pals are giving off the just deal with it tude. Of course they’re right.

Time to put on my game face, and get Step 1 of The Action Plan done.