take me to the dreary gray college campus I thought I’d never see again.
Sickness riled my stomach as I wondered what I would say to Professor Lark. Please help me find a job. I’m desperate. There was no guarantee I’d get anything from this meeting.
After you get a Bachelor’s degree, you’re supposed to be qualified for an entry-level job, and yet every writing gig I applied to demanded at least five years of experience. Searching craigslist was an exercise in futility. None of us got jobs. Some of my friends switched to other careers while others went to grad school and retreated into the false security it provided.
I walked across the campus and opened the door to the English department. As I followed the hallway, I saw many professors I recognized at their desks, some in meetings with students.
God, it’s weird to be back here.
I stopped behind Professor Lark’s door, my heart beating fast. Then I heaved a great sigh and raised my fist. I knocked three sharp raps.
“Come in.”
Professor Lark wheeled around in his chair and smiled as I entered the door. “Jessica, how are you?”
“Good,” I lied as I hitched up a grin. My grip tightened over my resume. “How are your classes?” I asked as I sat down across from his desk.
He was young for a college professor, with thick brown hair and an attractive face. Professor Lark was known for being easygoing and fair. Everyone liked him.
He waved his hand. “The furloughs have been frustrating, as you know. But otherwise, it’s been fine. How goes your internship?”
The burn of failure heated my chest. “They kept me for a year.”
“Ah.”
“They told me they didn’t have a paid position available. So I quit.”
He frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. At least it will look good on your resume.”
A sting of anger punctured my anxiety. Didn’t anyone understand I couldn’t live on unpaid internships?
“That’s sort of why I’m here. I’ve been applying to editing jobs, even technical writing, and I’m having a hard time. It’s been a year since I left my internship and I still haven’t found anything.”
The panic crept into my voice. Professor Lark looked sympathetic, but I didn’t see anything on his face that gave me hope.
“Perhaps you should get a job while you continue searching. I’m sorry, Jessica. I don’t think I’ll be much help. Have you tried looking in the career center?”
I refused to accept that. “Don’t you have contacts in the industry? Anyone you could send my resume to? I already tried the career center.”
He took the resume from my hands, avoiding my eyes as he scanned it. “I’ve been out of touch with them for a few years. I’m really sorry you came all this way for this. The only thing I can suggest—”
My heart swelled with hope.
“—is to keep trying. Get a paying job anywhere, it doesn’t matter. On the side, get another internship or a volunteering gig at a big five publisher. Just keep at it. You need more experience.”
I felt hollow. I couldn’t count how many times I’ve heard, “Don’t give up” or “Keep trying.” One of these days, someone will see how dedicated you are. You’ll have a cushy job in the city and an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, and parking included, and everything will be perfect. Not messy, like everyone else’s lives.
I stood up, fighting to keep my face from crumbling. From the distraught look on his face, I was probably failing.
“Thanks, professor,” I said in a cheery voice. “Yeah, that makes sense.”
My words echoed in the small office. I looked around at the dank office, taking in the battered books and how tired he looked, as if his job prematurely aged him.
“Jessica, wait!”
“Bye professor!”
I pretended not to hear him as I dashed out of the office. Pressure built up behind my eyes and I gasped for breath. I thought of the Golden Gate Bridge and saw my body leaping off the red bars to be swallowed by the icy waters.
Everything will be fine.
I would go to the library and research.
I’ll spend the whole damn day there if I have to.
Once I entered the library, I breathed. It was my sanctuary. When I was young, I spent whole days away from home buried in books. It was easy to crack a book open and dive into the story for hours and escape. When it closed at five, only then would I return. I still remembered how my stomach would fill with dread when my