“Apply.” he said.
“You’ll love that role.”
I sat and stared at my MacBook Air screen
I envisioned a life
Where my hours were filled
With community outreach and advocacy
And creating art to foster interaction.
I was made for this
And yet I’m terrified.
I’ve never made a viral video.
I’ve yet to participate in a TikTok trend.
But the dough of my dreams
Is already proofing in the warmth
of this emerging sunlight of hope.
I’m baking up a plan
And I don’t even know it.
I begin to type my application responses
In a Word document
And ten pages
Emerge from my fingers.
“Click submit.” He urges.
My narrative is too deep
Too vulnerable
Too honest
Messy, even.
Will they see the whole of my potential through my passion?
I’m paralyzed.
My mouse hovers, and then clicks.
“Your application has been submitted.”
And now I wait
To see how the warm air
Inflates my aspirations
And whether the flavors of my value
Pique the palate
Of my would-be employer.
The proof is in the pudding
I am eager for the oven timer
To ding with the verdict.
