The day I had to resign from Erickson’s job was etched in my memory like a jagged scar, a wound that refused to heal. My pride had taken a brutal hit, and I was left feeling like a ship lost at sea, tossed about by the unforgiving waves of life. But, as they say, when one door closes, another one opens.
Little did I know that the door I was about to open would lead to the stress of job hunting.
After a night of tossing and turning, haunted by memories of my downfall at Erickson, I woke up early, determined to put the past behind me. I knew that wallowing in self-pity would get me nowhere. So, I set my sights on a fresh start, beginning with the arduous task of finding a new firm to work for.
The process was soul-sucking, to say the least. Rejections and silence were the predominant resp
