I woke up from a phone call from my recruiter. He called about the interview days before: I was two minutes late to a phone interview (the commute was horrible!). I made a bad joke within a few minutes. I answered a question and ended it off by saying, “I’m not sure why I said that”. The questions stopped immediately afterwards. They ended the interview and thanked me for my time.
For a second, I wanted to plead, “can we pretend we talked for a few more minutes so I feel better about this?” but calculated the damage was already done.
Anyways, back to Alex — he called. He told me I got the position after three successful interviews and he extended a warm congratulations at 7 am. I laughed — that ugly snorting breathless laughter where you lose your breath — and I repeated to him, like he didn’t already know from the texts and emails I had sent earlier, “Alex, the interview was only seven minutes”.
I got the job.
I wanted this job for a number of reasons. It was a four month contract that would help me land on my feet in New York. It paid well enough. I could job hunt and apartment hunt for bigger and better things in those four months — plenty of time to figure out my next steps, whether it was to start a four year grad program or work in a new career.
In less than an hour, though, the high of a recent accomplishment was replaced by frustration. The apartment I had almost leased weeks ago was off the market — it was a one bedroom, white washed small apartment in Lower East Side with a view of the Manhattan bridge from the window. It was conveniently located near my favorite Indian restaurant, where my ex-fiance first met my family. It was blocks down from my favorite bar where I met a guy who I’ll ironically be working with on this new job. It felt like home the moment I stepped in.
It was perfect and it was gone.
I couldn’t find another comparable price, feel and location. Best of all, the apartment in LES had been month to month. If all went to shit in the Big Apple, I could jump ship and leave Manhattan.
Now I was back to square one, searching for a unicorn in New York, debating on costs, choices and practicality of this trans coastal move, while experiencing a flurry of emotions.