After the final talk with the department head, I walked out with my head still spinning.
“So… did I get the job?” I turned to the program manager sheepishly.
“YES. YES! Do you know how relieved I am? The lack of an ideal candidate (who knows the Hollywood structure and is also fluent with the Chinese culture) had been the bane of my existence of the better part of this year.”
We haven’t yet signed the agreement, but I think it’s now safe to say that I landed the gig. The whole process is exactly like how I teach my students’ about the hero’s journey:
A victory is fraud unless it’s earned.
I earned it this time, for real. A LONG SIGH.
In the drizzle, I lugged my suitcase and headed for the dorm they arranged for me. There I found my new roommate. The girl didn’t know there’d be someone else coming for the summer. After a moment of awkwardness, we started chatting, coordinating and cleaning. What would be a better way to start to know each other by getting manicure together. After a quick dinner, she headed back to the dorm and I headed down to the gym. My duvet is still en route to the campus. I woke up a couple of times while I was asleep, having to wrap myself in warmer clothes to battle against the night chill.
My mushy thoughts wandered back to the time when I arrived at my college dorm with my family, meeting my three other roommates who secretly thought I was adopted because I spoke mandarin back to my family’s Shanghai dialect. And the time I arrived in Liverpool as an exchange student, shivering on my first night, sleeping on the carpet floor because the bed went missing.
After only snoozing the alarm for once, I forced myself up. I don’t want to piss of my still asleep roommate at 5:45. Eating my breakfast in the lounge, a voice whispered in my ears: “Grow where you’re planted.” So I am.