Today I woke up at home, in my childhood bed, after two consecutive all-nighters, a killer three - hour essay exam, and being told I had to move from my apartment building with one week’s notice to find two emails in my inbox:

1. I had been rejected from Random House’s Summer Internship program, and 2. I had been rejected for a summer fellowship from the New York Historical Society. There was also an email from jcrew.com, which I would usually delete, but today I found myself reading about argyle sock sales just to take the edge off the two other stingers.

I don’t get it — I’m a perfectly desirable candidate. I look great on paper. So where’s the summer love (in the form of a paid internship in my desired field)?

Last February I decided that I had to move to NYC for the summer and work somewhere awesome. So, I applied to about sixty places, no joke. I only heard back from five, and was flat - out rejected from two. So who are these bionic college students that must be my hidden competition?

I think the answer lies in good ol’ nepotism and networking. They are sons, daughters, nephews, friends of friends and dog - walkers of publishing executives and museum curators, or they are just in some right place at some right time. Raw talent isn’t going to get you anywhere anymore, well … besides American Idol.

I’m not going to take these setbacks personally. After all, it is just summer. I’d rather spend my time sipping cappucinos on the beach than pushing paper in an office to “learn” about the publishing industry.

In the end, only my resume might suffer, and it will never even know what it’s missing.