Hiring Diplomacy

I treat you nicely
while you treat me like
a piece of paper.
I wait for your response and answer with a smile
while you figure out what to say or tell me the way it is
about delegating pedantic everyday routines
that must be followed
to a T.

I nod my head. I know my place.

I want to lunge at you and growl, “Give me a job!”
I am frustrated that I have to
ask for an everyday routine
that asks for no more head work
than the formatting of my thesis.

But my anxiety outweighs my pride,
so I know my place.

You make me wait
to hear from you
for two weeks.
My thesis committee made me wait
four.
You make me pay attention to asking repetitive
repetitive questions
In order to have the proper
paperwork filled out.
I had to explain a different discipline to my committee in multiple rewrites.



Stepping back,
my own ferocity
surprises and saddens.
I never knew
I had this in me.

But then, I also have the will to ask,

Do you want fries with that?

Because at this time,
I know my place.