Oh, right...
So I suppose the last couple weeks have been sort of hectic and I haven't been able to post any real pertinent information. Somewhere between working, riding, going through a breakup, and applying for every job on the face of the Earth, I lost touch with my blog and forgot to share this tidbit of information.
I have been applying to jobs fervently and as the job I've had for two years is now ending, I've felt like a complete loser. I have a university degree, a college diploma, and three years' worth of experience working with some of the highest needs children that exist.
Applying for jobs to me is like trying on bathing suits. It always ends in tears because I'm thinking, do I look that bad? In job searching, I often think of my qualifications and experience and I think, do I look that bad on paper? Does the fact that my body is quite literally covered in scars and bruises from the work that I do mean nothing?
Will nobody ever hire me?
I went for an interview in the heart of the city three weeks ago. I hate driving to the heart of the city and I hate the bureaucratic bullcrap that accompanies applying for jobs. In most cases, union rules state that every position must take four candidates. Initially, I thought this was great because it would give me a fair chance at a job. In reality, I've discovered that usually when I go for an interview, the interviewers already know who they are going to hire, but they must go through the motions to accomodate the union rules.
Four thousand, six hundred, and twenty seven interviews later, I was feeling pretty deflated. I did agree, however, to wake up on my day off and drive into the downtown core of the city nearest me, get lost on one-way streets, pay ten dollars for parking, and go for a freakin' interview.
I was angry that I was even there the whole time but I bucked up, answered the form questions as best I could, was very frank an honest about my abilities working with this population, and left feeling like I was on the moon.
I always leave job interviews thinking that I am on the moon. Typically, the next day, the interviewer calls me and says that I came in second to another candidate.
This time, however, the interviewer called me and said that I had a position.
After years of trying, my dream job has arrived. I leave the house every day and I am back by four p.m. I never had to sleep at work. I never have to be physically attacked while at work. This corporation will never bounce my paychecks.
I have the rest of the month to work at my old job and then I am FREE to work like a normal human being works. I honestly have no comprehension of what this will be like. I have never, in ten years of working, had a day job. I have never not worked late into the night and dealt with cold, snow covered roads at midnight. I have never had my weekends free from Friday at four through till Monday at seven.
I am so excited about this: I can ride three evenings a week, take lessons every Saturday, and sit on my butt every day after four from now on.
And my butt needs a lot of sitting to feel like it has reached its full potential in life.
I have been applying to jobs fervently and as the job I've had for two years is now ending, I've felt like a complete loser. I have a university degree, a college diploma, and three years' worth of experience working with some of the highest needs children that exist.
Applying for jobs to me is like trying on bathing suits. It always ends in tears because I'm thinking, do I look that bad? In job searching, I often think of my qualifications and experience and I think, do I look that bad on paper? Does the fact that my body is quite literally covered in scars and bruises from the work that I do mean nothing?
Will nobody ever hire me?
I went for an interview in the heart of the city three weeks ago. I hate driving to the heart of the city and I hate the bureaucratic bullcrap that accompanies applying for jobs. In most cases, union rules state that every position must take four candidates. Initially, I thought this was great because it would give me a fair chance at a job. In reality, I've discovered that usually when I go for an interview, the interviewers already know who they are going to hire, but they must go through the motions to accomodate the union rules.
Four thousand, six hundred, and twenty seven interviews later, I was feeling pretty deflated. I did agree, however, to wake up on my day off and drive into the downtown core of the city nearest me, get lost on one-way streets, pay ten dollars for parking, and go for a freakin' interview.
I was angry that I was even there the whole time but I bucked up, answered the form questions as best I could, was very frank an honest about my abilities working with this population, and left feeling like I was on the moon.
I always leave job interviews thinking that I am on the moon. Typically, the next day, the interviewer calls me and says that I came in second to another candidate.
This time, however, the interviewer called me and said that I had a position.
After years of trying, my dream job has arrived. I leave the house every day and I am back by four p.m. I never had to sleep at work. I never have to be physically attacked while at work. This corporation will never bounce my paychecks.
I have the rest of the month to work at my old job and then I am FREE to work like a normal human being works. I honestly have no comprehension of what this will be like. I have never, in ten years of working, had a day job. I have never not worked late into the night and dealt with cold, snow covered roads at midnight. I have never had my weekends free from Friday at four through till Monday at seven.
I am so excited about this: I can ride three evenings a week, take lessons every Saturday, and sit on my butt every day after four from now on.
And my butt needs a lot of sitting to feel like it has reached its full potential in life.
Labels: Work
posted by Amanda at 21:41
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