Monday, March 14, 2016

Today’s gutwretch brought to you by....

(Internal thought process: do I run some sort of search on my spreadsheet to update the number of interviews I’ve had, as like salt on the wound of this one? Or do I just plow ahead?)

I’m really sick of this.

It’s been two weeks since I updated the blog, and honestly I lose track of all the interviews. Last I wrote, I had an uplifting conversation with ASU. Right before that, the summary of a frustrating and brief interview. What I didn’t mention in that post, was that I ran home for that phone interview from a separate interview in the morning with  mid-sized local nonprofit helping chronically unemployed adults get work.

Shudder.

I thought about saying “THIS IS ME!” but restrained myself. Afterall, I didn’t have a career for 20 years in an industry that disappeared. I’m not 50, only 43. I haven’t been unemployed for 5 years, I’ve been underemployed, scrambling for a couple part-time minimum wage jobs. And my industry didn’t disappear, I sought a career change and accrued $70,000 in student debt for a Master’s degree that gets me about $20,000 a year. So I’m not the perfect client, but close.

ANYway, interview went well… blah blah, sent a thank you note. And waited. That was two weeks ago from Friday. I meant to call Friday, but didn’t. And no better way to start the day than with a phone call to a job interview that you’re pretty sure you didn’t get!

She was caught a little off guard. They filled the position, and she apologized for not getting back to me. I kept my dignity and didn’t burst into tears, managed to ask about other positions, using her for a reference, etc etc.


Then I hung up. Then I cried.

Neighborhood House High Point Center

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