mantle of “cutting-edge.”
At her age, it wasn’t easy for Kat to think of herself as obsolete. But when you put it all togther, it didn’t exactly position Kat as the ideal candidate for a job.
Kat stood there for a bit, just watching the steam that came from her breath in the winter air. When she felt a little more calm, she hiked up her sleeve and looked at her watch.
One-thirty already? she thought with surprise. Where’d the day go?
Kat took out her schedule of interviews and checked it again, even though she had it virtually memorized. A glance confirmed that, as she had thought, her next interview was nearby, and it wasn't scheduled to start until two o’clock.
Kat decided to take advantage of the opportunity to grab a little lunch and recover from the blur of waiting rooms, interviews, circling and crossing out want ads, and dropping off resumes. She wasn’t especially familiar with the neighborhood down here in Tribeca. The area was harder to navigate than the bulk of the City that stretched uptown. The streets down here had names instead of sequential numbers, and some of the streets veered off at odd angles instead of maintaining a boxlike grid like most of Manhattan. Even down here, though, Kat knew that it was difficult to throw a stone in Manhattan without hitting a deli of some kind. Sure enough, when she looked around, she discovered one less than a block away.
Kat walked inside and headed straight for the salad bar. As she rummaged through the bar and made her selections, Kat took stock of her situation.
Clearly, finding the right job wasn’t going to be as easy as she had hoped. In many ways, searching for a job felt a lot like an endless series of blind dates, complete with all the nervousness and potential for rejection that analogy implied. And just as in blind dating, there was no way to know how long the process would have to continue before she found “Mister Right.”
Kat’s hand stopped halfway toward the bin of sliced tomatoes, hovering above the salad bar as she was struck by a troubling thought. What if she never found the right job? There were no guarantees that she ever would. Would she just have to give up? If not, what would she wind up having to settle for?
There was no way around the fact that the search was going to be hard. She’d known that from the start, much as she’d tried not to think about it. The real question was whether the ultimate payoff would be worth it. Unlike most of the other people searching for jobs out there, Kat didn’t really have to work. Mister Lynch covered the living expenses for all of Gen 13 , and gave each of them a generous weekly allowance besides. She had a gorgeous place to live, and more than enough pocket money for her modest needs.
But, as Sarah had pointed out to the others, that wasn’t why Kat was looking for a job. Kat didn’t need this for the money. She needed it for herself. And that, she realized with a deep sigh, wasn’t something that was going to go away anytime soon.
So yes, she figured, the search was worth it. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was worth it.
Kat paid for her salad and took it outside to sit on the bench at a bus stop while she ate. She sat alone on the comer, fighting to eat her salad before the wind blew too much of it away. The solitary, outdoor meal wasn’t the most lavish she’d ever eaten, nor was it the most enjoyable. After spending hours mired in the looking-for-work grind, there was a big part of her that wished she could be off with her friends instead.
Kat wondered what the others were doing right now. She bet it was something fun.
Roxanne lay on her stomach, sprawled sideways across her bed. She was dressed now, but that wasn’t the most distinctive thing about how she looked. No, the distinctive thing was her eyes, which were puffy and red with tears.
Despite all the things Roxy did to make herself appear older—the attitude, the cigarettes, the tank tops and
At her age, it wasn’t easy for Kat to think of herself as obsolete. But when you put it all togther, it didn’t exactly position Kat as the ideal candidate for a job.
Kat stood there for a bit, just watching the steam that came from her breath in the winter air. When she felt a little more calm, she hiked up her sleeve and looked at her watch.
One-thirty already? she thought with surprise. Where’d the day go?
Kat took out her schedule of interviews and checked it again, even though she had it virtually memorized. A glance confirmed that, as she had thought, her next interview was nearby, and it wasn't scheduled to start until two o’clock.
Kat decided to take advantage of the opportunity to grab a little lunch and recover from the blur of waiting rooms, interviews, circling and crossing out want ads, and dropping off resumes. She wasn’t especially familiar with the neighborhood down here in Tribeca. The area was harder to navigate than the bulk of the City that stretched uptown. The streets down here had names instead of sequential numbers, and some of the streets veered off at odd angles instead of maintaining a boxlike grid like most of Manhattan. Even down here, though, Kat knew that it was difficult to throw a stone in Manhattan without hitting a deli of some kind. Sure enough, when she looked around, she discovered one less than a block away.
Kat walked inside and headed straight for the salad bar. As she rummaged through the bar and made her selections, Kat took stock of her situation.
Clearly, finding the right job wasn’t going to be as easy as she had hoped. In many ways, searching for a job felt a lot like an endless series of blind dates, complete with all the nervousness and potential for rejection that analogy implied. And just as in blind dating, there was no way to know how long the process would have to continue before she found “Mister Right.”
Kat’s hand stopped halfway toward the bin of sliced tomatoes, hovering above the salad bar as she was struck by a troubling thought. What if she never found the right job? There were no guarantees that she ever would. Would she just have to give up? If not, what would she wind up having to settle for?
There was no way around the fact that the search was going to be hard. She’d known that from the start, much as she’d tried not to think about it. The real question was whether the ultimate payoff would be worth it. Unlike most of the other people searching for jobs out there, Kat didn’t really have to work. Mister Lynch covered the living expenses for all of Gen 13 , and gave each of them a generous weekly allowance besides. She had a gorgeous place to live, and more than enough pocket money for her modest needs.
But, as Sarah had pointed out to the others, that wasn’t why Kat was looking for a job. Kat didn’t need this for the money. She needed it for herself. And that, she realized with a deep sigh, wasn’t something that was going to go away anytime soon.
So yes, she figured, the search was worth it. It wasn’t going to be easy, but it was worth it.
Kat paid for her salad and took it outside to sit on the bench at a bus stop while she ate. She sat alone on the comer, fighting to eat her salad before the wind blew too much of it away. The solitary, outdoor meal wasn’t the most lavish she’d ever eaten, nor was it the most enjoyable. After spending hours mired in the looking-for-work grind, there was a big part of her that wished she could be off with her friends instead.
Kat wondered what the others were doing right now. She bet it was something fun.
Roxanne lay on her stomach, sprawled sideways across her bed. She was dressed now, but that wasn’t the most distinctive thing about how she looked. No, the distinctive thing was her eyes, which were puffy and red with tears.
Despite all the things Roxy did to make herself appear older—the attitude, the cigarettes, the tank tops and
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