Unintentionally Hard to Get: Job Hunting & Wife Hunting

I've discovered something in-fathom-ably-optimistic. I'm not sure that's a word, but I'm going to treat it like one.

Job hunting and Wife Hunting are incredibly similar.

For the past two months I have been doing everything I can to find a job. The first month was great. I was interviewing all over the city, spent almost 2-3 hours a day on an online job seeking service (LinkedIn) trying to find the right fit and got nothing. It was exciting because I got to meet so many people, but there was no fruit on the trees.

After 6 weeks I got very discouraged and was ready to die unemployed. It was really tough, I was hard on myself and the couch I slept on.

I completely stopped applying for jobs. Books became my new hobby. I was reading, cycling and babysitting. Those three things kept me alive for a couple weeks. I started smiling again! You should have seen it. Many saw it from a bench on the pier where my favorite reading spot was. There were these massive sail boats I would watch slowly rock back and forth. It is so clear in my mind that I can almost picture it beneath this paragraph:

All of the sudden my inbox started filling up with people wanting to meet me. I stopped chasing them and they started chasing me.

In 4 days I got 2 job offers, accepted one of them, found an apartment, and moved in. It was the most odd yet miraculous thing I've ever experienced. I called it, uninentionally hard to get.

I didn't mean to act that way, I just did, and got a job.

There you have it. I stepped on a plane in Salt Lake City on May 1st. On July 1st I will step into the Sprinklr offices as their newest employee.

I can't believe it. My dream is happening!

As far as that and dating, I'm still single, so I'll get back to you.

PS: A detailed job description of where I will work and what I will do is up ahead, so keep your facebook page up and running the next couple of days.

Parallelism : Double Universe : Black Eric

I have a theory. You probably believe in the same theory, but haven't had the guts to disclose it because it could potentially cause social explosions. The theory is that everyone has an exact replica of themselves somewhere else on the globe.

For example, I am a twin. I was lucky enough to find my replica just seconds after I was born. Many other people are highly unfortunate because they may never get to meet the "New York Version" of themselves.

Last night I saw someone on the subway that walked, dressed and pondered exactly like my old roommate/cousin. I called him, Black Eric. Before this moment, I thought parallelism only existed in-race,  but this guy was black and my old roommate was white.

If you know Eric Sumsion, then you will laugh for twenty minutes when looking at the picture below:

From the bow tie to the nice shoes, this guy is the Black Version of Eric Sumsion.

Since coming to New York I have seen loads of "New York Versions" of my friends. I have never had the time and capability to sneak a picture. 

Jump the gun

Have you ever burned your tongue? Of course you have. Like me, you probably get impatient and take a bite, knowing you are risking the ability to taste for the next couple of days.

The other day I remember staring at something on my plate and analyzing what I was planning on eating the next couple of days.

Long story short, I jumped the gun and burnt my tongue.

I feel like I have done everything I can in order to find a job. I am confident that I have applied to more jobs than Obama. Nothing against him, I just really want to say that.

There is a pier on at the end of Wall Street that shoots into the Hudson. When you look out, you see the Brooklyn Bridge in all it's massiveness. When you look in you see a wall of enormous buildings keeping out anyone that questions their ability to make money. Thus the Wall Street Paradox is born. I'm convinced that the only people suited for New York City are those that have big heads. If your head is big enough, someone will squeeze you in.

Behind June, my niece, you'll see the tightly knit wall of the Financial District.

Some people have told me that they think I'm too nice for the City. The only people that make it here are severely cut-throat. They know what they want and won't let anyone stop them. I would agree. I am a nice person, unfortunately my niceness doesn't mask my massive ego. I think I have a lot of great ideas and can be excruciatingly creative. That's why I'm here.