I'd rather move seven thousand miles away to dwell in my own inadequacy as a person than spend the next three months trying (pointlessly) to find out who that person is.
My shoulders stop shaking as I take deep breaths, trying to get a hold of myself as I sit hoping that something will happen that will give me hope again, something will make me proud of who I am again, all I know I have to offer, and inspire me to get rid of my gloom-and-doom attitude that repulses Jared - and me too. That something will happen that will inspire me to look for a job I want rather than a job I think I should want. That something will make me realize what I want. To stop judging my self-worth based on some interview about haircutters. To stop interpreting job callbacks as in any way indicative of my value as a person.
I sigh and mutter to myself, ' I wish Jared didn't hate me . . . and I wish I knew how to get a job.' If only I had a job, none of this - with Jared, with me, with Majuro -- would ever have happened. I'd be happy with who I am. There would be no self-loathing, no jealousy, no selfishness.