How I got 120 job interviews for 99 jobs I didn’t want | part 1

Woman's hands moving in a stubborn way

© The Shortlisted – 2016

It felt just like a complete disaster.
Not a proper disaster like a typhoon, just a personal one.
Let’s just say that no one (including myself) had a vague clue regarding what the hell was going on.
Sure thing, I was applying for just all the jobs out there and was getting all the possible job interviews anyone can ever dream of.
But instead of dreaming, I was just dying inside.

Just to be clear about it, this didn’t involve any kind competition or social media challenge, like these (usually French) individuals who live one year without palm oil.
Neither am I talking about those who run a marathon in November to support a charity or, alternatively, make millions with an ebook about ebooks and then tell you that now that they have bought a new MacBook, they would never go back to a regular PC in a million years.

I had no blog, no followers or supporters, no social media. It was just myself, constantly thinking that my place was certainly supposed to be elsewhere.

Rome, Brussels, Paris, London, Madrid, London, Seville, London, Rome, London, Rome, London, Rome: I changed country and town so many times in the last decade that I’m not even sure about where I really am now.

When it comes to London, I have lived in Queen’s Park, Finsbury Park, Hackney, Bermondsey, Canada Water, Woolwich, Bromley (which is in Kent technically, but I was located only 9ft away from the border, so I still consider it being London. Also, if I’d tell you that I lived in Kent you’d picture horse races, not the rat invasion I described here), Alexandra Palace, Bounds Green and still counting.

Back then, I tirelessly kept changing flats, flatmates, mates and jobs, because no matter where I was and what I was doing, I was always and constantly feeling in the wrong place.

I would have found a better job elsewhere, I’d repeat myself: I would have done everything to find THE job.

My dream job had to be somewhere out there, somewhere over the rainbow.
I had this in mind when I moved back to London for the second time, under the rain.
My dream job would eventually appear, I was sure about that, it was just a matter of time, it was just that I didn’t have the right chance yet: in London, everything would be different.

Read the rest of the story: How I got 120 job interviews for 99 jobs I didn’t want – Part 2

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