guppy

I need an internship for the fall in Boston. I have been applying to publishing companies around the city, but so far to no avail. I have been sending resumes left and right, but so many companies have already found interns for the fall. A few haven’t responded yet, so I am going to send second inquiries.

I am a little nervous that I will never be able to find an internship (or on a grander scale, a job) in a big city. As much as I have enjoyed working at Prometheus in Amherst, it is in Amherst, New York. I don’t want to be a big fish in a small pond; I don’t want to live in a small town or the suburbs of a rust-belt city. I want to be a guppy: a guppy in Boston, New York, London, or San Francisco. I know that when the time comes I will get a job where I can find one. I will not be Rory Gilmore circa the eighth season of Gilmore Girls.

In other news, I am growing more pretentious every day. Yesterday Ellie and I went to a bookstore and I bought the most recent issue of McSweeney’s. I then drank my bold brew from Café Aroma and laughed aloud at sarcasm from writers with inflated egos.