On June 19, I was “let go.”

This time I didn’t sign a confidentiality waiver, so I can talk about it more.

On the outside, I’ve been pretty sunny, saying that I was unhappy anyway and that I didn’t like the company’s direction.

But parts of my are flailing. This is the second time, almost exactly a year later, that I’ve been laid off. The first time I struggled with whether journalism was my true calling and luckily, I felt like i found a job in a new branch of journalism.

So far, I’ve sent out what must be near 40 applications now. I’ve e-mailed and facebooked and linkedin pretty much everyone. I’ve gone to four networking events.

I’m tired and I want to snap at everyone that is complaining about their job. “At least you have a paycheck. I don’t know how I’m going to pay rent!”

I haven’t yet.

I feel beaten down by the system, by the career that I love so much. I feel lost.

Again.