I didn't get the job. See the big, gaping wound? POUR SOME SALT IN IT, WHY DON'T YOU?


I'm OK. I had a three-minute cry after lunch this afternoon with my sister. I didn't really have to say anything, and neither did she, but it gave me a minute to let some tears fall. Then I wiped them, took a deep breath, and carried on with my day. It's certainly not the first - or the worst - job rejection I've faced. This time I sort of braced myself for the worst case scenario - this - so I think I was better prepared.

Yet. I'm still bummed. I could very easily curl into a ball and sob for a few days. Or I could just shut up and move on. So I'm going to try and go with that option. (I know, right? I don't recognize me, either). Besides, I do still get a new apartment this week.

So, my glass is half full (hopefully of vodka).