The Part About Endings

"Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can ... There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something." -- Chuck, "Supernatural"

So ... A funny thing happened on the way to Georgia.

Read on for fun. :) I'll keep it short, I promise. Mostly because I'm barely not-delirious (thanks Comic Con :)).

April rolled around, which saw the final pieces of my grad school application falling into place. Finally, finally SCAD had gotten my teacher recommendation letter after it getting lost along the way the first time. A few weeks passed, and I got in. Unexpected, to say the least, but thankfully, a new adventure.

Almost simultaneously, I was offered an internship by a guy who I played volleyball with. Things were great there! The guys were all really welcoming, great mentors, and genuinely fun to be around at work all day.

I was still working as a personal assistant and a technical writer for Chaos Group. Come July, I left my personal assisting job so that I could focus on interning and working for Chaos Group.

Everything was going really, really well. But nothing was coming up that would keep me here past the end of July. The deal always was: apply, apply, apply for everything. If you find a job, you stay in LA. If not, you go home at the end of your lease and go to grad school. Not the best thing ever, but a plan is still a plan.

The middle of July rolled around, and while reading for Chaos Group one day, I was messaged about applying for a job at The Third Floor, my dream company. An entry-level, receptionist/PA job, but a JOB. At The Third Floor. Okay, let's do this.

I applied. I heard back. I interviewed. I had a good time. I thought the feelings were mutual, and I heard back in an obscenely short amount of time. Things were good!

I went back for another interview. I was way more nervous than I thought I'd be. It wasn't as good as the first, but I was hopeful.

But I didn't hear back. And I didn't hear back. And I didn't hear back.

So, I'm sorry to say I gave up. I resigned myself to going home at the end of the month, after one last hurrah at Comic Con.

I was still upset, but I was having a good time. It's been something I've wanted to do for a while now, so I was making the best out of it.

Then, on Friday, I got an email requesting that I call The Third Floor. So I did, and, as it turns out, I gave up too soon.

Guys, but really. I GOT A JOB. A bonafide full-time, full-paid position at a place that I 1000000% want to be at.

So, that's that. A funny thing happened on the way to Georgia. A really funny thing happened called a job.

And in the entirety of the whole process, it finally got through to me that even though I've been working my hardest to keep up a good front, keep up hoping that I could do it, somewhere along the way, I think I gave up on myself. If anything, these past few months have been a reminder that nothing is ever accomplished alone. I'll always get by with a little help from my friends. The future's wide open, folks.

I'm staying in LA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"Hope's kind of the whole point." -- Sam, "Supernatural"

--Tiffany