Maybe I skipped one too many classes to watch whatever my latest obsession was on Netflix. Or, maybe I was too busy day-dreaming in class about my plans for later that night which would most likely include more Netflix. Either way, I seemed to have missed or blocked out the “What life after college is really like…” lesson in class. Allow me to explain…
Back in December, after spending four and a half years at Morgan State and graduating with (what now seems like a useless) degree in Journalism, I had a panic attack. This was not my regular “Shit, I didn’t study and I can’t afford to fail this test” panic attack. This was the full blown “What now?!” panic attack.
I had been emailing, inquiring and practically begging for jobs since late October. I had a few interviews in which I scraped my tiny fro back into a low bun, put on my best dress pants and fake smile praying the company wouldn’t smell my desperation from a mile away.
One interview a week before my graduation seemed promising. A certain publication responded to my 100th internship/job inquiry. Now this publication was the best in the game, er at least was … well to me. I followed them on Twitter. They followed me. Retweeted me a couple of times. Perfect right? I was on my way to becoming a young Sidney Shaw or Khadijah James in the making right? Sigh…
With my head held as high as it could reach and my confidence on Nene Leakes levels, I centered my name chain and walked into the office. It was small and nothing like I had pictured. It looked more like a call center office. I used my best non-threathening tone to ask for my interviewer. She quickly got up from her desk and greeted me in a smug “I’m not sure if I would kick it with you in school” way.
The interview process began. It was filled with the typical “Who are you? What can you do for the company? Why do you want to work for us?” questions and I was knocking them out of the park. No like really, I was on point. Everything seemed to be going well. We were flowing and even bonded over our confusion with Pintrest. It was all good until she asked “How good are you at copying and pasting from MTO?”
“Excuse me,” I asked because I clearly misheard her. “How good are you at copying and pasting from Mediatakeout,” she asked again cocking her head to the side.
“Copying and pasting…”, I thought to myself. Copying and motherfucking pasting from Media motherfucking Take Out. I’ve spent damn near five years in school, cried over 20 page papers, have pulled endless all nighters, and have even chopped it up with a few of my favorite artists to sit in an interview and to be asked if I am good at “copying and pasting”. Clearly my emotions were running directly to my face.
Noticing my hesitance, she continued to go on “Yeah, I go on TMZ and MTO all the time. They really get the news fast and that’s what we need here. Do you know about Chris Brown and Karueche? That’s important too.”
My head started spinning and I’m pretty sure I had begun to hyperventilate. Somehow, I managed to spin move the question and was hit with the “We’ll be in contact soon.” I had walked into that office the most confident girl in New York and walked out in shambles. There was no way that my life after college would be reduced to plagiarism and gossip.
On the train ride back to Baltimore, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this would be it for me. I’d spend the rest of my life avoiding people I graduated with and waking up everyday to go to a job I hate.
Almost three months after graduation, I still don’t have my dream job but I’ve learned that it’s okay. I don’t expect an email from the perfect job to come flying into my inbox. I don’t expect someone to “discover” me and give me the opportunity of a lifetime. I want to work for it. With three editorial internships, a full time job, and a new blog, I think I finally am.