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Summer Vacation Update

Sounds much better than “Summer Blog Neglect” doesn’t it?

Wow…my…bad.

According to WordPress stats I’ve not posted a single thing in 4 months. Hm, what has happened for me in 4 months? LOTS.

The SparkNotes version is:

-Was a Bridesmaid at my Aunt’s wedding in Florida

-Worked as a Script Supervisor on my first sleep-away film/ first film since 2015

-Self-Cared the heck out of myself

-Accidentally became the manager at my job thus tripling my workload to my roll-with-the-punches dismay

-Dated unsuccessfully…

-And, OH YEAH! GOT AN INTERNSHIP WITH GOTHAM WRITERS

Let. Me. Tell. You.

This thing has started a revolution in me! The amount of sudden change and the onslaught of confusion, and fear, and worry, that rode on the wings of this great beast of opportunity has stirred awake a dormant syde of me who I’d be begging to reemerge.

The Story:

Almost absentmindedly, this spring I’d emailed the prestigious Gotham Writers, an online & NYC-Based writing school, a cover letter to their internship program. Absentmindedly because, many times this year I’d found myself cycling in and out of confidence that I could escape my rut and return to the writer dwelling under my epidermis; but also because I don’t know how seriously I took myself at the time. Sure, I poured a lot into crafting a good cover letter, and I’ve had the utmost respect for the program since writing Fan Fiction in High School, but there’s been a part of me that’s been numb from the experience of repeated rejections in the job search, and belief in myself was at an alltime low. It turns out I was late for the season and I was asked to apply again for the fall on August 18th.

I remember the date clearly because I set a reminder on my calendar that very day, determined to at least try to get in, since I hadn’t received a flat out no. Fast Forward to August 18 when my reminder went off and I immediately took to the old email thread and stated my clear interest. BadaBing-BadaBoom I had an interview set up for the next week (and it happened to fall on my self care day!) Yayyyy!

I was relaxed. I’d just spent the morning in a Russian Bathhouse and had an amazing massage. Afterwards, I was headed to the library to catch a free seminar by my happiness idol Gretchen Rubin. It was a bright shining day and I was happy.

This all must’ve shine through because it was one of the best interviews I’d ever had.

The coordinator was a peppy smiley woman after my own heart and a man, who I now know to be the President, took to me silently proclaiming “Get her, I bet she’s good at banter” and on board I jumped. I was ecstatic! I hadn’t properly attained something I’d really wanted in the writing realm in quite some time and I accepted with reckless abandon.  They told me I should at least take 2 days to think about it. I conceded though it was clear I was IN.

It took less than 24 hours for that clear sense of accomplishment to be marred by reality’s sick sense of humor.

The Whispers of Self-doubt

This internship, though still one of the best things to happen to me at this time in my life, is dreadfully unpaid. It also requires 3 Weekdays a week for the rest of this year. That’s 3 days per week that I’m not being paid at my already menially paid job. When I did some number crunching, guess what? It turned out I couldn’t actually AFFORD to take this internship. Que: panic, worry, regret, upset, and the whole family of negative emotions that plague the downtrodden.

“But it’s ok”, I tell myself, “I can make it work, I’d been paid less before and managed to survive.” This as true. Though I’d had less bills then. Then came a gut punch that spiraled me into a full on breakdown: our rent was going up, and the amount I’d now have to contribute tipped the extremely unbalanced scale of a budget I’d drew up for myself.

I called my friends in a flurry of panic, I called my father in a fog of uncertainty, and when I finally got to calling my dear aunt I was so strung out on those last bits of false hope that what I should’ve known she’d tell me all along sounded like some kind of massive weight lifted off my shoulders.

She said what she’s always said….”MOVE DOWN HERE.” back to Florida. Back to the incubation chamber of my post-grad depression. Back to a place where the weather was warm. Where a job awaited me. Where I could afford a whole studio apartment for half the price of a shared room here in NYC.

It made SO MUCH SENSE.

So much in fact, that it calmed me, and I was betrayed by that calm. Because to move to Florida would mean to ditch all efforts. Moving to Florida has always been the last resort. The reset button that I’ve had the pleasure of hiding in the very bottom of my back pocket.

Move to Florida. Quit my job. Move to Florida. Good bye friends. Move to Florida.

Forget the internship.

It was all so stressful anyway, why not just ditch it all and start over? I could afford to start over right? So what if it’s set me back in my goals of writing and learning. So what if I’d be in a position of disconnection from my network and aspirations.

Oh god, it sounded so good I was nearly convinced.

For a week I debated. I only had a week! Though I’d already told Gotham I’d do it. If I was going to move in less than I month I needed to know right now. Not like, now, RIGHT NOWWWW! I cried, I screamed, and moaned and talked and talked and talked and talked.

I made an extensive Pros & Cons List. Florida won out. I modified the list. It still won! But something in me needed to be sure; there was so much on the line.

Then finally I reached a breaking point.

I realized the reason I was fighting so hard to see if New York was worth it was because I had an opportunity here, and in Florida I didn’t. Sure there were a lot of domestic advantages, but when I got down to it, the fact was that I would be leaving something for nothing. If I stayed I would gain so much. Life would get hectic but when wouldn’t it?

The fact is I was afraid of staying stagnant, and it could happen in either Florida or New York. But here came this new thing, this gamechanger! And I’d have been crazy not to take it. But it’d also be crazy to stay…

So stay tuned for this Fall’s new Season of Syeda’s crazy life!

-Sye

 

 

 

 

 

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