Interviews

I got a phone call while writing my last blog post that made me realize I haven’t written much about the job searching process—which is kind of a big part of the “twenty-something” lifestyle.  So I figure I should tell you all a bit about how that’s going for me.

As you know, I have a job at Panera, where I work about 10-15 hours a week.  I also worked at a summer camp which recently ended.  And I’ve been applying for jobs throughout the summer.  I’ve now had three interviews, none of which have panned out. 

The first was for a proofreading job.  The interview went really well, and the people seemed to like me, but then they gave me “proofreading test.”  I think I’m a pretty okay writer, and I love editing my friends’ papers and stuff, but I’m no “proofreader.” I can pick up the easy things like run-on-sentences and spelling errors and most comma mistakes.  But when you give me a test on it, I start seeing mistakes that aren’t even there.  I haven’t heard from them since… so I guess that’s out.

That night, I was upset and flustered, so I started applying for random jobs on a whim, just sending my resume in an email.  One of them was for a “marketing coordinator” position.  People have always told me I’d be good at marketing, so I thought why not give it a try?  The next day they called me and asked for an interview.  I took the morning off from camp and drove the 30+ minutes to Woburn, only to spend about 10 minutes in the “interview” which was basically some guy telling me about the business.  Then I left, worried that a ten-minute interview wasn’t a good sign.  The next day they called me to confirm my second interview… Okay?  So I went in and met with two new guys who told me we were gonna drive a little ways down the street and do the interview there.  Are you creeped out? Because I was.  We walk out the door and I’m thinking am I going in a car with you or do I get to drive my own car? And where the fuck are we going? And why are there two of you? And I hope I can remember all of my RAD techniques…

I got to drive my own car, and I followed them down the highway to the nearest home depot.  That’s where I really found out what the “marketing” job was.  You know those people that walk around stores (like home depot) in business suits and offer you free promotions (like cabinet re-facing)? That was the job.  They explained to me how it worked and the hours: 11am-7pm weekdays and 9-4 on the weekends, and that I’d be making 8 bucks an hour (which is less than I make at Panera).  There was “opportunity to move up quickly,” but I decided pretty quickly that it just wasn’t for me.  I went back to my own car and we went back to the office.  There, I politely told them that I had to discuss it with my family and I would call them soon.  I went to work and all my coworkers were so excited that I got offered a job- ANY job.  They made me second guess my decision to say no.  But then I went home and talked it over with my family, and I realized my first instinct was right.  I called the guy back and said it wasn’t right for me.

Yesterday, I got another phone call for an interview.  A receptionist job I applied for on a whim (again).  I went in and before we even got started talking, she had me fill out paperwork including a W-4 form, which kinda freaked me out because I’ve only filled those out with contracts.  I soon realized that I was at a temp agency and the woman explained that they needed the form on file so when they placed me, I would be able to be paid immediately.  Then we talked about my experience and what kinds of jobs I would interested in, and she scribbled all over my resume.  Then it was over and she said she would contact me soon.

So, all in all, not terrible experiences, but I still don’t have a job.  None of these were what I was prepared for from the mock interviews at school.  But I guess that’s the 20-something life.

Vacations for the Broke and Unemployed

One of the hardest things about being broke and unemployed is when you need a vacation.  Even when you’re not working, sometimes you still need to get away.  Away from your endless job search, your crappy part-time job, your parents, your spiders, your lazy lifestyle.  But if you have no money, you can’t really go on vacation.

            Enter awesome family members.  I know that I am one of the lucky ones when it comes to family.  I have close tides with kind family members who are always willing to take me in.  My aunt and uncle have a big, beautiful ranch in wine country Virginia, so I called upon them for my much needed getaway.  All I needed was enough money to get down there and back.  My beloved Zera made it all the way down on one tank of gas, and Jim the boyfriend paid for half, so it was only about 60 bucks each.  And my aunt and uncle spoiled us for the rest.

            We left at 7pm on Thursday night for the 8 hour drive, hoping we’d miss the weekend and rush hour traffic by driving through the night.  Somehow it was backed up pretty much the whole way down, and we came to a dead stop at 2am in New Jersey.  I know Jersey gets a bad rap, especially because of Jersey Shore and other recent “reality” TV Shows that misrepresent it—but when you’re stuck on the turnpike for an hour not going anywhere, I gotta tell you: that place smells!

            I took a nap in the back for a while and Jim drove, and when we finally got into Delaware and further south, we breathed the fresh air and could see the stars again, and it was beautiful.  We got down to Virginia a little after 3am and snuck into my aunt and uncle’s house, stopping to see the baby chickens in their garage, then went straight to sleep.

            The next day I woke Jim the boyfriend up, eager to introduce him to my family, only to find that no-one was home but the pets. 

We went out for a cheap breakfast and came home to relax.  That night, my aunt and uncle took us to meet up with my cousin, and we all went out for Indian food.  After stuffing ourselves and daring Jim to try the #50 spiciness (the highest level), we went to a nearby frozen yogurt place for desert.  The next day we went to a wine tasting and then had grilled salmon back at the house, with real southern cooked peach cobbler to top it off—the first cobbler I’ve ever had.  After that, we watched a movie, and the next day just relaxed, learned a new board game and started the drive home late that night.

            Overall, I spent less than a hundred bucks, got to see my family, got to explore the southern countryside and relax in a new place—which is all I need in a vacation.

            So, if you’re broke, unemployed, and living with your parents, take advantage of your far away family members.  They might not spoil you like mine did, but they’ll at least give you a place to get away.

Runaway River

I haven’t written much lately.  I’ve been working at a summer camp, with a few shifts at Panera now and then.  Pretty exhausting but I’m hoping to save up a bit more before I go unemployed and start paying loans.  I also wrote a book review for an author whose book really wasn’t that good, but since he was paying me I felt obligated to write a positive review.  It totally wasn’t worth it.  But it was a job… in my field… so at least that’s something, and something I can put on my resume.

I’ve had a few interviews for jobs but nothing special has come up, so next week when camp is over I’ll have plenty of time to write about my terrifying job search.

            But the main reason is pure writer’s block.  I feel like I have absolutely nothing to write about.  I go to work and by the end of the day I just want to crawl into bed and watch Tv till I fall asleep and do it all over again.  Today I was feeling ambitious.  And guilty for being so un-productive.  I just don’t know what to write about.  So I figured I would take this opportunity to share with you a piece of non-fiction I wrote a while back, during a rough time in college.  This is one that most people liked, I hope you like it as well:

Runaway River

I have to get away.  Usually I just crawl up in a ball on my bed and stick my headphones in, tell everyone not to bother me.  But that’s not enough this time.  My room is oozing the stench of un-showered college and unwashed dishes coming to life.  Literally.  There’s mold growing.  I can’t stay here.  I can’t go outside.  Not on a college campus when every single person you know comes up to you and see’s the look on your face.

“Are you ok?” 

“NO! I AM NOT OK!”

Then they want to know what’s wrong but you can’t tell them half the shit that’s wrong because it’s “confidential” and even if you did tell them they’d probably give you advice.  But you’ve followed every single fucking piece of advice that you’ve read, that your friends gave, your parents gave, your therapist gave.  There’s nothing left to do.  Nothing left to do but keep on keeping on.  That’s what they say.  So I keep on.  Spring break can’t be too far away.  And after that, there’s a hint of summer in the breeze.  But for right now, I have to get away. 

Class is cancelled and there’s nothing to distract me from other people or keep me out of my stench prison.  I walk to my car.  Open the door.  Step inside and get comfy.  Slide the key into the ignition and turn into my freedom.  Shut down my cell phone, shift into drive, and press the gas.  Time to take the road less travelled.  Left turn out of the parking lot, then follow it until I can’t go straight anymore. Left.  Follow.  Up a steep hill and I catch sight of a river next to me.  My car floats along the road beside it, turning and speeding with it.  A red light seizes me from my neighbor of freedom.  Society’s conventions can’t stop me for long.  Green means go.  Fast as my wheels will let me.  Climbing back to my place in the river.  I follow it for hours, passing towns and shops and woods and mountains. 

Finally, an opening.  Only a short walk through the woods.  I pull over and grab a sweatshirt.  I have driven far away from the warmth of the sun.  I walk down to the edge of the river, throwing my things on a rock nearby.  My knees touch the cold grass and crunch the leaves.  I lean over and dip my fingers into the icy water.  Cold.  Alone.  Free.  I sit down on the rock and watch the river drift slowly by me, tumbling on the rocks and logs in its way.  I close my eyes and listen to the murmur and gurgle and I feel a drop on my arm, forehead, nose.  I open my eyes to more cold wet kisses from the clouds above.  The water returning to its home in the river.  Time for me to return to mine.  I stand up, stare at the river and silently thank it for its comfort.  Sigh and slowly turn towards my car, the leaves soggy and oozing under my feet.  Inside, the sound of the ignition begins and tricks me into comfort with its warmth.  Back into drive, and a three point turn pointing me in the direction of home.

The road winds and the dark clouds envelop the sky, pushing the sun further into it’s resting place.  The water pounds on my windshield, begging me to come back.  Thin black lines whisk them away as their sisters slide down my cheeks, collecting in the corners of my mouth.  I follow the road, trying to ignore my friend the river.  You’ve helped me this once, and I thank you.  But I won’t come back.  Not soon at least.  I must go back to my world.  I look at my world, on the corners of the river-banks, bridges and train tracks, stores and restaurants lining the road and blocking the view of the beautifully angry water.  She doesn’t run away from anything, just washes them away with the force of her and her sisters.  She is strong.  I could never be like her.  I run away from everything. And then I return.  Nothing to say for myself.

“Where’d you go?”  A friend asks when I find my way home late at night.  The sun is long gone, and the rain has already disappeared from the sky and the ground.

“Nowhere.”