It has not been a good week so far.

Four rejections in two days it hard to stomach.

Harder still that they were from places I was more optimistic about:

• My undergraduate college. I thought I might get a second look, maybe a phone interview, but no. I knew the answer was going to be no since I had not heard from them. Ironically the same day I got the letter from them, I also got a request for an alumni donation. My sister said that I should send the rejection letter in lieu of the donation.
• A postdoctoral program that I seemed fairly well matched with. It is at a UC school and they tend to be very nepotistic with their postdoctoral programs. Still, not getting something I feel like I am very qualified for and match well with doesn't do much for my confidence.
• I applied to a non-academic position just to mix things up a bit. Again I felt like I had the right qualifications and research interests (it is a research institution), but they sent me a no.
• The other disheartening issue was that two of the four rejections came via email. At least when I got to the mailbox I prepare myself mentally, email catches you when you off guard and when you are trying to get something else done. It certainly ruined my evening last night.

I am discouraged and depressed. I wonder why I worked so hard to get to this point and why people fail to recognize that I would be a valuable addition to their institution.

Sara's hugs and affection are the only thing getting me through the disappointment.

While I generally dislike it when people put lyrics up, I do have the song Helicopter by Bloc Party running through my head, so here:

Helicopter

North to south
Empty
Running on
Bravado
As if to say, as if to say
He doesn't like chocolate
He's born a liar, he'll die a liar
Some things will never be different

Stop being so American
There's a time and there's a place
So James Dean
So blue jeans
He's gonna save the world
He's gonna...

Are you hoping for a miracle?

Three out of five, three out of five (it's not enough)
Six out of ten
Better luck next time
Just like his Dad, just like his Dad (the same mistakes)
Some things will never be different
Hungry and dumb, hungry and dumb (so wait in line)
Queuing up for some more junk food
It's not my fault, it's not my fault (just this once)
They're getting so much younger

Why can't you be more European
Bastard child of guilt and shame
Bury your head in the sand
I'm thinking six, six, six
I'm thinking six

Are you hoping for a miracle?
It's not enough.

I wonder what my psychiatrist will say about that.