Yesterday I received a post card rejection. My friend had gotten one the day before, so I knew it was waiting. I have been auditioning/interviewing for jobs and this form of rejection is one of a few different types of rejections that I have experienced lately. But this...this is funny and fitting. A post card is great when you want to communicate in a very low maintenance way. You find a pretty postcard...scribble a line or two because there isn't any room for anything else, slap a stamp on it and stick it in the nearest mailbox. This particular company was like...oh by the way, better luck next time. To tell you the truth, opening envelopes holding information that you know can't be good isn't any better. There is the very brief moment when I think that the contents won't be depressing or send me into a day of escapism. But the postcard, no room for hope. Just as your brain is processing where this is coming from, you turn over the card and read the words that sentence me to a day of self-loathing.

I can't help but imagine the person whose job it is to send these things out. I imagine myself in that position. I don't know that I would use the post card method to preserve the delicate egos of a bunch of performers. No. I would use this method because it's low maintenance...like so many other things in my life. There are quite a few high maintenance things that I do, but they come in sporadic, brief pockets of intensity throughout my week. If anything, my activities are very manic. I like it this way. I immediately threw that post card into the junk mail trash can by my mailbox. Now as I write this however, I wish I saved it.