Screw this economy

I know, I know. I haven't updated my blog in awhile.

But trust me - it's not like I haven't had time to update it.

That's the problem.

I've got all the time in the world.

Of all the reasons to get drunk, today would be one of them. I'm celebrating my one-year anniversary... of the day I started working at the coffee house. (Disclaimer: There's nothing wrong with the job at the coffee house and in this economy I know I'm lucky to have a job blah, blah, politically correct blah, blah, blah)


But it's not the job for me. I live in New York City. I live in Midtown Manhattan in NEW. YORK. CITY. As in, I walk my dog a single block away from my apartment and I pass Hearst Towers - home of Cosmopolitan magazine, Seventeen magazine, Marie Clair magazine, etc.


If I walk two blocks, I'll pass Random House. As in THE RANDOM HOUSE. For God's sake, if they opened the windows in their building, they could hear me shout, "HERE I AM JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE!" from my apartment.


This is the city of opportunity for someone like me - a total book nerd who would be in heaven to be working at a magazine or with authors and unpublished manuscripts, even if it was in an administrative capacity. I'd show them my value and I'd climb that ladder.


But the problem is that no one has let me pull myself up on that bottom rung. I haven't gotten the chance to show what I can do. I'm a college-educated woman who maintained a 3.9 GPA all four years of school with more than five years of writing and/or editing experience.

I've done it all - cold calls, journalismjobs.com, monster.com, and just went to my first career fair. There, I spent two entire hours surrounded by thousands of similarly dressed young professionals, but only got to talk to people at two of the booths for about 30 seconds each about two jobs I'm not exactly qualified for or excited about. The lines at these booths resembled those at the most popular ride at an amusement park. And as I was walking away, I saw them place my resume on a five-inch pile of other resumes.


So here I am, contemplating applying for a full-time, unpaid internship... one that lasts an entire year. Because that's nearly half the time I've been applying for jobs in this impossible city. That's right - this June will mark two years since I began applying for jobs here - with the number of jobs I've applied for well into the more-than-100 range.


But enough bitching. I've got to prepare for a night of binge drinking.