The problem with being a potential candidate for something, is that there are also other, potential candidates. They all want the same thing; you all have the same goal. They probably all want it just as much as you do. They probably worked just as hard on their articles as you did. They probably researched just as thoroughly, as you did too. So how can you possibly play the guessing game? You can’t, is the reality of it. Sure, you can add up the possibilities; you can endlessly rake over your work, look at things you could have done better; you can reread, as much as you like, but the reality is that you can’t change the article you’ve already submitted.
The same sort of thing happens at job interviews, and in the case of being a student, the question is not whether you are good at your job or not, or how much experience you may have; it’s about your ability to be able to work consistently, throughout the year. And in the course of being a student, I live on the other side of the country to home. Which means that I would not be able to work during the holidays, because I have a job at home to go back to, and a family, that I like to see at least every three months. However, employers aren’t satisfied with having you for nine months of the year; if they want to hire you, they want it to be on a consistent basis. This is currently one of the challenges I am facing, in finding a job down at university; even pubs seem to be looking for permanent, and not absentee-for-three-months-a-year staff. This, coupled with the present state of the job market, makes part-time employment increasingly more difficult to obtain.
This tirade, you might say, was somewhat unprovoked; however in my little (exhausted) mind, it all made perfect sense, because I’ve been submitting applications left, right and centre. It sounds petty, and it sounds pathetic to be so cross, about this, but it’s a journey that seems futile. Having recently read Mr. Palomar as well, things are certainly feeling a bit futile; the man’s constant existentialist crisis makes me want to shout at him, and ask, (almost) politely, whether he has a real problem. A debt collector, or an illegitimate child, perhaps. Anything that would motivate him, to actually do something. And this is entirely the problem; even when you do everything, all the time, it doesn’t always work out perfectly.
But nevertheless, even though I’m not feeling optimistic today, due to a combination of being tired, my muscles hurting, and being buried under a pile of work, it will “all come to he who waits”, as my mother often says. A phrase that has annoyed me since I was about twelve years old. I hope she continues to be right; it would be beautiful timing to end the trend of “Mum is always right” now. Anyway, chin up, chuck.