Now is the time when all the formal rejection letters start rolling in, like a cool slow tide trickling in. Your bare toes curled into the sandy beach as the sea water squeezes its way between your toes. Most of these thin envelopes are opened only to reveal terse statements like: we regret to inform you, unfortunately there is no relevant position available, you are over-qualified for the function, and other blah-blah type of stuff. This trickle is to be expected, coolness coming along, but it is difficult nonetheless. Sinking slowly into the sand. I think that rejection is no fun, even for the strongest personalities. The art is resilience and an undaunted ability to continue onwards. You get mad, at the world around you, at the shortcomings of your own skills and experience, at the unfair way the dice have been thrown this time around. You feel like cussing and slamming your fist on the table, which I confess I have been doing alot lately. But there is nothing to do about it except hang in there, keep your nose above the surface of the water, and emanate trust and goodwill. Just move along.
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Graduated from Stanford 6-5-1979 ago.
Kiffin Rockwell was shot down and killed 9-23-1916 ago.
Believe it or not but I am 10-11-1957 young.
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My father passed away 10-20-2000 ago.
First met Thea in Balestrand, Norway 6-14-1980 ago.