After finishing my first round at NASA, I tweeted (yes, I have a twitter too. I am such a douche and a slave to pop culture, I know. Thank God I don't have cable or I'd be a lost cause) something like "DOOOOONE!! I feel so freeeeee!" One of my good friends, who had also just finished working a similarly pointless and boring summer gig texted me to congratulate me and follow up on the tweet. For those of you unfamiliar with twitter, this is rather common. Unlike facebook which has the ability to air every conversation so that anyone who wants to can read it, twitter forces its users into some kind of non-displayed personal contact. Which is why for people who think that twitter is too 'self absorbed,' I say they should try it first. I actually far prefer it to facebook. I originally got it so that I could get news updates to my phone, and got caught up in it pretty quickly.
WOW sorry for the ridiculous digression, allow me to continue with my tale. My friend asked what I was going to do with my two weeks of freedom and I told him I would do nothing and love every minute of it. He asked me why not up the ante a little and do nothing with him at Myrtle Beach for a week. (Found out later that he had originally invited a supa hot babe that he was hoping to nail, but she had to back out at the last minute so I was the second best choice :) ). Obviously, I had this new job, had a few dwindling weeks to enjoy the remainder of my adolescense, I was in like sin and jumped at the chance. Went to Myrtle Beach, was living it up, and on my fourth day catchin rays at the beach, I get the call from my 'new boss.' "I'm so sorry. Funding fell through. I really like you, was really counting on this working out. We really need someone just like you to fill this role but unfortunately it will just not work out."
It took a minute for it to sink in. Juuuust great. The whole summer had been a waste, I might as well have done Camp. But there was nothing I could do about it then. And one thing you will quickly realize about me is that I just don't care about most things. Well, that's not true. I do care. A lot. I just don't get real worked up about them, especially when I'm a) at Myrtle Beach with b) No Internet and c) Nothing I can do about it anyway. So, besides getting a lot more drunk that night than I usually would have (which is saying something) I didn't really let it affect my mood too much. Until the ride home when I realized that I had to tell my parents. Last time I'd talked to my parents, I'd been telling them about this awesome new job I got and how excited I was about it. They were home right now waiting for me to get there and fill them in on all the exciting details. So naturally, I did what any mature adult would do: I went over to my friend's house and hung out there until I knew my parents would be asleep. I'd break it to them tomorrow.
No comments:
Post a Comment