So my best friend got a job today, and I couldn’t be happier for her.
The way it came about was a little unconventional—let’s just say reality television might have been involved. The actual interview process was as grueling as anything, if not more so, since literally every step of the way she had to deal with a camera crew following her every move. She took the long and emotional days in stride with more poise and positivity than I could have ever mustered, that’s for sure.
Her and I have been best friends for three years now, ever since we randomly roomed together in our sorority house. She is the sister I never had, and after graduation she came to California to live with my mom and me so she could better pursue her dream of working in the fashion industry. We had about a month of blissful bonding time, during which we explored Orange County (where I live) and Los Angeles (where we both aspired to move after we got jobs there). The plan was always for us to do our best to make the move together, after all finding a two-bedroom place anywhere in LA on a starting salary is more reasonable than finding an affordable studio apartment. We were both aware that this goal might be unrealistic: what were the odds that we would both get jobs close enough together to allow a smooth transition? The truth is, slim to none.
At this point, she is so beyond excited about being employed that there’s no room for realistic talk of logistics, but that’s all I can think about at the moment. As if I didn’t already feel completely behind not having a job upon graduation, now both my boyfriend and my best friend—both of whom are from Texas—are successfully employed in California.
And of course I am absolutely over-the-moon thrilled to have two of the most important people in my life now living out their dreams so close by. I just can’t help but feel massively disappointed in myself at the same time. And the killer part is that both of them, along with my parents, are actively invested in offering advice/support/help in my job search. But every time they do, no matter how good their intentions, all I feel is discouraged for not living up to the their expectations, and even more so, my own.
As an only child, there is no one else around to make my parents proud or exceed their expectations. It kills me every day that I wake up not knowing what I’m going to do with my life. It’s ridiculously hard to have such conflicting emotions: I’m obviously so ecstatically proud of my best friend for taking this huge leap toward living out her dreams, but at the same time I’m throwing a massive internal pity party. I feel like it’s necessary to add that there’s totally still a chance that I could wind up finding a job in the next couple weeks (I’m definitely not sitting around at home twiddling my thumbs), it just seems a tad unrealistic at this point.
Tomorrow she flies back out here from her hometown, and I am going to be the most supportive friend in the whole world. But for today, I’m thinking about myself, and about the two-bedroom apartment that may never happen.