Pounding the pavement into a pulp

17 07 2009

A little over three months ago I was a employed. I wouldn’t say that I was unsuspecting though; I had that deep in the gut feeling of fear gnawing along for a few months prior to the axe fall. Many times I contemplated beginning the search for work, they say it is easier to find a job when you have one, but I chose to ride out the sunshine up the posterior train until the blinding crash at the end. The morning of the day I felt an overwhelming urge to pack up my belongings and within hours the firing squad came by the office with their hankies in hand to bid me adieu.

I’ve past the house cleaning frenzy stage and have moved on to the monotonous daily clicking stage. Click one, email. Nothing new, except a hot young teenage girl that wants me for my body and some Saudi prince that wants to give me his millions for free. Next click is the first of many job hunting sites and I weed through with relative skill finding which are worth clicking and which are merely covers for the latest military recruiting scheme. Each worthwhile company gets a quick cross-referenced google moment to personalize the cover letter that all but has me on my knees screaming ‘give me a chance’.

I think back to when I first moved here and was looking for work. It was a different economy then and I had the affordability to be choosy. I remember one interview had found me sitting across the desk from a man younger than I earning more a year than I have amassed in all my life and he asked me why I wanted to work for his company. My answer? “I can’t think of a single reason why I would want to. Thank you nonetheless.” And I shook his hand and left. Sit in an office all day drawing a paycheck for the moments he may be in town and need my assistance? Too mundane. Five and a half years later I sit here trying to remember who he was and wondering how much he would pay me to shine his shoes.

In my previous position I sat on the other side of the fence from where I am now. I posted the jobs and screened the candidates. Misspellings on your resume? Fonts I cannot read? Job history that reads like my ex husband’s child support payment history? Dates don’t match up? Glorified titles like food technician to glamorize burger flipping roles? All of them, not worth the time. Now I skim my own resume daily looking for the same inadequacies I once dismissed candidates for having. From midnight til three I sit researching on Hoover’s for area businesses and compile a list of all of the wonderous aspects of their business to explain why I hunger so greatly to submit my unsolicited resume to them for work.

It is all in vain. Or thus far has been.

Two interviews. In three plus months.

My eyes well up as I hear family or friends ask how that job hunt is going. I want to scream at them. It may be pity, it may be concern, it could be a million things why they call to check up and offer suggestions and prod me along to find a job. But it is a constant reminder that I do not have one and it makes me feel as though they think I have not looked or do not care. Yes, I know unemployment doesn’t last forever. Yes, I am aware that I am not alone. And yes, I know my husband can’t cover the bills alone. Do you think I am so inept mentally that I thought this was a lifestyle choice? Do you picture me lounging about with bon bon drool on my pillow and the remote in hand? It is all that I can do to keep my spirits up and my faculties about me. I challenge myself daily to outdo the prior day’s unsolicited letters to unsuspecting companies. I mentally work on puzzles and trivia and continue educating myself on the Microsoft classes I luckily still am enrolled in courtesy of my previous job.

Well, it’s now almost 5 pm, which means it’s time to hit all of the career sites again for their close of business posts.




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