…Ask anyone about job-hunting in New York City and I’m hope they reply with a groan or by running away in the opposite direction. In a metropolis of eight million, it seems like everyone was applying for some kind of work. I wish that my university offered “How to Find a Job 101.” Maybe it my fault for moving to New York without a plan of attack or a least knowing a way to make some cash in order to feed myself. I figured that it would be easy to find work waitressing at a hipster café or at the market, scanning cans and food stamps. Eleven job interviews and two employment agencies later, I found work at a call center, phoning folks across the country about what brand of light bulb they use and if they could ever afford first-class air travel. The hours and pay were terrible but at the end of my shift, I could run to McDonald’s next door and treat myself to a hot fudge sundae before catching the subway home.
This is how my summer went: Wake up. Explore bits of my ‘hood. Eat crappy yet cheap food- breakfast/lunch/dinner all at once (eating once a day was what I could afford to do). Go to work at 2pm. Work until 9pm. Meet up with a friend or walk home back from Midtown across the Manhattan Bridge back home (the subway’s expensive when you’re making minimum wage). Go to bed. Boring, right? I began to question my move to the Big Apple during those long treks back home. I saw myself becoming that one person I never wanted to be: DULL. I worked at a terrible job. I wasn’t meeting people. My talent laid in writing and I wasn’t doing so. I moved to New York City for a reason. I just needed to figure out what that reason was….