Don’t Ask

Stomach churning, stiff neck,

Sunday funday sunday sad day.

Grey echoes in the air,

Lonely yet needing to be alone.

You Alright?

Speaking through closed doors,

The world pries with shadowy fingers.

Nothing is wrong. Everything is wrong.

Don’t ask, please.

I don’t have the reasons, and you don’t have the answers.

A voice within a voice within a voice,

Can you hear my silence?

Listen harder,

and don’t ask me.


Can’t you see you’re making it worse?




The week from hell


You can take your CV and shove it, missy.

Ever had one of those weeks?

It has been an all-out shocker for me.

Over the last few weeks I have been madly applying for jobs and going to interviews. That in itself is stressful enough, right?

I had all my hopes pinned on this one company, a place I have wanted to work at for a while. The interview was on Thursday, and they informed me that they’d either be in contact tomorrow (Friday) or early next week. No calls on Friday so I spent the weekend biting my fingernails. Kept my phone on me through work on Monday, no calls. Starting to FREEEEEAK OUT people! On Tuesday, at 4.30pm, I felt my pocket start to vibrate. Of course, I was in the middle of an examination with a patient. Can’t exactly drop everything and run out of the room can you? So I waited, and called them back just before 5, only to be informed by the nice receptionist that the guy I needed to contact had just left for the day, and to call beck tomorrow.


So I suffered through a night of torture, and got barely any sleep, thanks to my stupid brain that wouldn’t stopp OBSESSING.

The next morning, between patients, I rang back.

I was told that they had interviewed seventeen people, and only had enough room in the budget to employ four. And while I was a ‘sweet girl’ who had ‘interviewed well’, I hadn’t made the cut. I thanked him and hung up. I should have asked for feedback on the interview, how I can improve my chances for the future etc, but when your vision gets blurry with unfallen tears it’s a fair sign to end the conversation.

Anyway, there was no time to wallow; the clinic where I was doing placement was nearly fully booked that day and I had to suck it up and be nice to people (while internally cursing the world). For lunch I ate my weight in McDonalds to try and numb the pain, but alas I still felt shitty.

Naturally, that same afternoon I got a phone call from another company where I had interviewed (my plan B, FYI) and was informed, similarly, that I had not made the cut. Way to crush my self esteem in two swift blows, people!!!

Okay, I thought to myself, at least the worst of it is over and I got all the rejection out in one hit. WRONG. The next day I recieved a rejection email from a company who hadn’t even asked me for an interview. Cool.

Of course, one of my friends from uni got the job I had so coveted, and all the other girls had recieved offers from the other two companies that had rejected me. Sure, I am super happy for them, but every time they discuss their awesome prospects and signing of contracts blah blah blah, a piece of my soul is smushed under the vindictive heel of my own circumstances.

Sahhhhh poetic. FML.

Rant over.