The Disappointment: an Update

Update on The Disappointment [See post from Thursday, 21 July for back story]:
A few days ago my boss says
"I don't want to make you feel worse, but I have something to tell you..."
Shit, I thought she was about to tell me that my position had been cut or something.
(NOTE: my boss doesn't like the term "boss" but prefers "colleague," so sometimes I call her "comrade" or "la capitaine" as a compromise. But I'll stick with "boss" here.)

Weeeell, it turns out that the Librarian from Dream-Job wrote my boss an e-mail saying that she had received 130 applications, and that three of the people had used my boss as a reference. One of the 3 people turned in his application on wednesday; I know this to be true from inside information. Now, what kind of person tells me on Monday that they will not accept any more applications because they already had 95? Further, what kind of person would I have been to submit an application after learning this information directly from the person in charge of hiring? "Here's my application, Librarian Lady, even though you told me not to apply." How the hell was I supposed to know that she would accept 35 more and then contact my boss! I am so mad. My boss wrote some vague comments about the applicants but told the Librarian that it's a shame she didn't accept my application because I would have been great. ha!

Anyway, my conclusion is this: fuck Portland. I am applying for graduate school in New York and if I don't get in will probably move anyway. If I sell my car [which I won't need in NY anyway] I should have enough to move cross-country and live for a couple of months.

[Difficulties selling car will be touched upon in a post to come.]

It's been a couple of weeks since I found out about the 130, but I am still seething. My dad wants to write a scathing letter, and while I would love to read such a missive, I don't think it's a good idea.

Now, back to shelving books in my pitifully-paying job where I will dream of Brooklyn, new shoes, and a library of my own.