Sometimes, you just know things aren't going to work out.
Your friends tell you they will, but you know they won't.
You're not being pessimistic. You're just being a realist.
And then reality comes to greet you like an old friend, "Hello, how are you?"
My LA job offer fell through. And I was simultaneously relieved and destroyed.
I wasn't thrilled about moving to Los Angeles, another big city where I'm even more of an anomaly and where I'll be at least equally as lonely. I wasn't thrilled about once again being second in command to someone who desperately needed my help, without receiving the proper credit for my input. And I wasn't thrilled about working at another record label, something I thought I'd never do.
But I was excited to have a real reason to move to California, with real money and real responsibilities and a real time commitment. Living life month-to-month is liberating but exhausting. I might like to know what I'm doing for the next six months, not just this month.
I'm also relieved to not have to move out of my apartment in such a short period of time, with such little notice and such little time for rumination and marination. Now I can really plan ahead, properly look for an apartment, and maybe even move to San Diego instead of LA, where I'd rather live anyway.
It's a little embarrassing to have received a job offer that has fallen through. But by now, I know for certain that nothing is confirmed until you're sitting at the desk, or have received your first paycheck. And even then, even when you think your situation is set and you're positioned securely for the next few years, anything can be pulled out from under you.
Anything, at any time.
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