Why So Serious?

Wednesday.

As I lay on the floor at the library with a tear rolling down my left cheek, I remembered what that I.T. guy had tattooed on his arm. ‘WHY SO SERIOUS?’…

I got up today and tried to pack my hair up in a high single bun. It didn’t look completely cute. I added two scarves and my face looked okay at least. I had this interview that I planned for today last Thursday with a recruiter who found me on LinkedIn for a marketing agency as a Sr. Creative Director. I did not prepare for it. My older brother and I are those people who fail woefully if we don’t prepare for any exam or interview.

Don’t get me wrong. We are great with filling in the blanks and just making it up as we go. But, somehow, we have this connection to honesty that makes us feel like cheaters when we show up without preparing, even if we know what we should say or write. I think. I don’t know how to explain it better than that.

So, why the hell didn’t I prepare for it? Because I have an underlying guilt for getting anything for free. I didn’t apply for the job, so why should I get it? I know, a little self-destructive there. I have been a provider for quite a while. And providers work for things to PROVIDE for other people. Therefore, receiving and asking, of course, are skills I have to learn.

The second reason is, I don’t think I can do it. Trust me, I am a big risk-taker. But one thing I can’t risk is getting in trouble for violating rules against the American Government and getting kicked back to my country. I don’t think I’ll be as strong as my mom thinks I am if that happens. And Alex has hammered this fear into my mind consistently that I am actually now paranoid about being myself again. These are just excuses. I know. But I’ll fix them. I always do. Alex is a guy who helped me in my journey to America. He introduced me to his family, his fiancee, his kids, and I even call his parents Nana and Pop Pop.

Anyhow, I had this interview at 4 pm in a study room in the library. I did horribly. And when the call was over, I felt like a failure. I don’t see myself as an employee. I provide for people, so that means I am the one who will become an entrepreneur to give jobs to people. But I have to start from somewhere, and I know that. On that floor crying, I suddenly felt overwhelmed and lost. Where do I start? I ran away from a country that trapped its citizens because it could. I gave up EVERYTHING. So did my mom and brothers. Now I’m here in my dream country but, the rules of my visa make me feel trapped again. I sound like a coward. I know.

I called random numbers because I wanted to talk to someone. Nobody picked up. I can’t call my brother unless I have an international phone plan. So, I usually FaceTime him. Thanks, Apple. But my brother wasn’t available. I ended up talking to myself. Then, a last phone call trial, and a girl picked up. I asked her to just listen. And she did. So, I decided to count my blessings and just keep taking those little steps to building my business.

I went home, combed my hair, and packed it up into two equal puffs. Like Mickey Mouse. And I looked great! So I went running that night too, knowing the hair troubles were over. I would decorate it the next day with little butterfly clips that I bought last year, and fix my edges real good.

I didn’t eat any chicken BLT, but I found my happiness again.

Yeah, chicken BLTs usually do the trick. And I thought about that guy’s tattoo again. Why so serious? We’re all just travelers anyway.