I’ve been up for hours, but I don’t get anything done. I pace back and forth, Youtube videos playing in the background. Three hours before I need to leave for my job interview. I finally allow myself to get ready. I fix my hair, pick some clothes and get dressed. I drink and I snack, but I don’t taste a thing. I move over to my desk to attempt to print out my resume, a tragedy strikes. No black ink. I look up to the ceiling and I try not to scream at the world. The world is silent, oblivious to my frustrations as the sky remains blue and bright. There is not a single cloud to be seen. I print out my resume in blue, throw it into a folder, and I leave. It’s freezing outside. I don’t even realize I have no scarf or hat until I’m a mile away. People walk by me chatting happily. I walk like a soldier telling myself to focus on getting to this interview. I’m still an hour early and I try not to think about how I don’t know the correct address. I had called the interviewer a few hours ago to clarify but I was only met with her voicemail.

I get on the T, sitting as far away from everyone as possible. A man sits across from me bopping his head to some beat coming from his earphones. Holding my folder tightly against my chest, I side-eye the men sitting close by. They are not wearing masks. The man with the headphones gets up, for some reason I get up too. Mirroring his movements. Panic runs through me as I realize I got off on the wrong stop. The name of the stop written in big white letters on the wall, somehow I had missed it. I wonder, is this even worth it? Is the world just laughing at me? “Why did you do that?” I want to scream to myself while shaking my own shoulders. 

Shoppers chat happily all around me, enjoying the warm weather. I bounce on my spot sweaty and shaky waiting for a Lyft. Turns out I guessed the wrong address, I knew before I even walked into the store. The manager gives me a look of pity and sends me on my way to the correct address. Whispering reassurances like, “They’ll understand!”. I call another Lyft, somehow my card had enough money to cover the expense.

My driver does not bother asking any questions but somehow I still find myself spilling out some words, trying to explain myself. Trying to convince him I’m not some crazy person. “Please don’t think I’m weird.”, I want to say. “I’m just having a bad day.”

There is no traffic. The streets are calm and mostly empty. I awkwardly laugh to myself and I feel like I’ve collapsed into myself. It felt like anxiety didn’t even make sense anymore, things couldn’t go worst even if I tried. I get off and I’m not ready, but I was just so tired of being afraid. I was twenty minutes late when I walked in. Warm, kind smiles are turned my way. I’m sweaty and flustered and all I can think is, “Please, don’t ask. Please don’t ask me for my blue resume.”.

I answer every question in a daze. I’m not nervous anymore, but I’m watching myself from the outside. And I want to tell myself, “Wow, you actually sound like an adult. Look at you go.”, as I watch myself answer the questions.

They offer me the job on the spot.

I can barely hear the kind blond woman when she offers me the job. I almost consider asking her if she means it. She explains the job role and smiles down at me like she found a gem.

I sure don’t feel like one.

I walk out with the blue resume she never asked for. The sky is still bright, bright blue. I hold my folder close to my chest and I breathe. I look down and I notice my clothes don’t match.