Second

I want to talk about being second -- not quite good enough to be the best, not too bad though, either.

I am consistently second in almost everything I do, it seems. I try to be content with this position, but the truth is that I am not.

A few years ago, I applied for The Perfect Job, a position that would have altered my life course -- supplied me with an excellent income, rockin' hours, and so much fun. I was the second choice. Since then, I've been told that the institution made a mistake. Whatever. The rejection hurt then and still stings a bit today, but may have been a blessing in some respects too. My lack of comfort, after all, led me to pursue additional education and seek other opportunities. I've met some amazing people on the way.

Last month, I applied for The Scary But Pretty F'in Awesome Job. I did not think that I had a chance in hell at obtaining it, but could not allow myself not to apply for it. Guess what? Second again. This time, at least, it did not sting as badly, as I did not have my heart set on the position.

People tell me that I should feel happy that I made it so far in the process -- that I should be happy to know that I came in second. While I cognitively understand this sentiment, I am not particularly happy, as my circumstances remain the same (not that they're inherently bad, mind you).

I'm trying to be happy - to remain confident that my chance will come. I know one day I will progress from second to first.

When that day comes, I'll be prepared to rock it.