Over the past few weeks, I’ve been greeted almost every morning by a rejection email.. Most of the consulting companies have told me to go to hell, big boys whose names rhyme with Drain, Horton Befuddling Coup, McBinseed and small ones like Donald Burger, Foose Ballin Paddleton have asked me to come back later. Yes I know it sucks donkeys’ balls but whatchagonnado?
On friday I had the interview from hell. It was a good consulting company (Baitey Barney) so I have no idea what the fuck happened. The guy humiliated me and mocked me and said the worst things. I left the place in tears, cried the whole day. No surprises – I was rejected but hey instead of sitting back and taking it this time, I gave it back to them. Here’s some feedback for you, bitch! They apologised to me and offered a do-over interview which I agreed to at first. But then I thought about it .. do I really want to interview with this fuckface again? I’d rather throw up all over myself than see his face again. So I wrote a nasty-ass email to the whole bunch of partners in the firm and met with them in person to give them a blow by blow account of what happened. Oh well. It’s totally unfortunate because it’s a nice company with nice people and yet somehow I got stuck in an interview with the biggest dick in the office (metaphorically, I’m sure physically he must be as well endowed as an average housefly. That would explain the bitter grouchiness to a very large extent).
But at least I had the whole weekend to recover from that trauma. OF course come Monday I get another unpleasant call with some really random feedback (I lack analytical rigour apparently… well fuck you, I don’t lack rigour of any kind, thank you!) from another consulting company, Polymer Hymen this time.
So yes, the market’s doing bad and I’m doing worse. I sort of refuse to see this as a reflection of my sucktitude because let’s face it, I don’t such that much. Fine, I am occassionally stupid and rarely confounded but by and large I spend most of my days conscious, aware and reasonably smart. If I had to value myself on the basis of these rejection letters, one would think I had the charm and intellect of an autistic monkey.
And the last time I checked I was niether autistic nor a chimp.
Wish me luck. Or better still, make yourself useful and make some calls to your rich fathers, uncles, strangers you slept with and ask them if they want to hire a smart sassy (and saucy but don’t tell them I said that) MBA grad with a sense of humour for fuck’s sake.