Today has been “one of those days”. It is 75 degrees and beautiful. I’m wearing capris and flip flops and it’s still only March 22. Second day of spring? More like full day of awesome! I looked good, felt good, smelled good. I was ready to enjoy a nice day of errand running with my mom. Until we started to run the errands.
We started our day by heading over to the place that employs me to pick up my paycheck. On the way there we started to argue about my joblessness. I started to cry and she started the silent treatment. I’ve probably said this before but I’m not a crier so just know that whatever was said in the 10 minutes it took to ruin the day must have hit me hard. It wasn’t even what was said, it was the little points brought up to make it to the major point of me not having a real job and hating myself everyday for it.
We started to talk about friends of mine who I haven’t hung out with in a while but have sort of kept up with. In person, not digitally. I was filling my mom in on the great jobs they have and the fact that their lives are so much better than mine. So instead of assuring me that my life would change and that things would start to work out, my mom told me I had to be more agressive about things. Believe me, I don’t need to be coddled and told that the job fairy is going to leave a great salary and benefits package under my pillow tonight, but “you need to be more agressive” is not what I wanted to hear. Especially since this morning I tried for the 3rd time to make an appointment to speak to someone about job postings/availability in a department that is different from where I am now (same institution, different department).
When we got home, I went on to careerbuilder.com and searched for entry level positions in a media/journalism field. What did I come up with? Well, there was an interesting post for Segment Producer at NBC (YES! Backstreet Boys here I come!). All I needed was a 4 year degree (check!) and 5 years experience (huh?). Wait, this is entry level? You’re kidding. So I kept looking and found a job for an military recruiter, a telemarketer, and then an assistant at some undisclosed agency that when I read the description the company may or may not have been called “Adult Entertainment”. Thanks, but no thanks.
This led me to question myself as to what I wanted to do. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I cannot be at the job I’m at for much longer. My new boss is 2 years younger than me and obviously thinks I’m stupid because she talks to me like I’m 2. (Among other reasons.) I love to write. I would love for people to read stuff that I wrote and laugh, or know that they aren’t alone, or just be informed. I don’t know how to do that. I can’t be a freelancer because I’m not known so who would publish me? (1) and they’re a dime a dozen (2). I need good benefits because if I don’t get dental soon, the cavity I diagnosed myself with is going to take over my mouth and I’ll have to start charging rent. (plus side: income!) I want a job with perks. I want that cool job that gives it’s employees giftbags, free samples, unwanted concert tickets, cellphones and other great swag. I want one of those jobs where you walk in and BAM there’s a celebrity drinking their morning iced coffee. Don’t tell me you don’t know what I’m talking about. You’ve never signed on to Facebook and saw a friend from high school or college or whatever standing next to ___________ (fill in name here) on your newsfeed; which made your stomach sink into your toes because you’re stuck handing out basketballs all day? Oh, that’s only me? Touche. I JUST WANT TO SLIP ZAC EFRON MY PHONE NUMBER! Is that so much to ask?