Yesterday my wife found out that she did not get an opportunity she had really been hoping for. It left me feeling very ineffectual and upset. I had helped her prepare her materials, so I felt we had done this as team, of sorts. I honestly don't know why Erika wasn't extended this opportunity, and I can only guess it might be over some administrative technicality. Regardless, this has greatly upended her plans for the coming year, and that makes me truly angry. No one I've ever met works harder than my wife; no one gives more while asking for nothing; and no one deserves more to have her dreams be fulfilled for the rest of her life. And if you're some crank who wants to tell me "life isn't fair," I have two answers for you:
1. No shit.
2. Fuck you.
Erika has had the dictionary definition of a hard life, and I doubt there's anything you can bring up that will top it, so save it, asshole.
Rejection is (cliche inserted), as we are both in the creative writing field. For every play produced, book published or poem printed, I wonder how many people have had their dreams spit upon. And I often wonder if the "winner" is truly worthy, and how that distorts an audience's view of that person once they somehow slip past the gatekeepers.
We can only try again next year. But what do we do in the meantime? What does everyone do in the intervening 365 days before the next round of possible disappointments begins? Enjoy the process, you might say. Well, that reminds me a lot of how the christian church made (makes) people obsess about an afterlife to forget how shackled they were (are) in this one. I don't know if I have anything else to say.
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