Holla,
In my experience within the business world, I've often heard about a company's "culture". People talking in business speak would say, "company X has a really great culture," or "I love how company Y fosters an innovative culture." Usually these phrases would be followed by discussions of their portfolios and blue tooth settings, and my attention would quickly drift away to thoughts of talking monkeys and wizards. It wasn’t until I entered my current position that the concept of a culture really hit home. In previous jobs I always thought of myself as one little circuit in a giant, Voltron sized machine. I was often told about the culture, but I never experienced first hand until now.
Maybe it’s because I’ve never worked for such a small company before. With only 16 employees, Traveltime (code word for my company’s name) is smaller than most accounting departments that I’ve worked in. Most of the employees have worked here for the majority of the Traveltime’s 27 year history. Over that time, a very unique “culture” has been created. It’s like a group of people that were stranded on a deserted island. They’ve never known anything else. It’s only a matter of time before they turn on one another and start worshiping a pig’s head on a stick. Or turn to cannibalism.
But this familiarity isn’t the driving force of the culture here. Far from it. I think in any organization, the attitudes and personality of its leadership slowly seeps into the nooks and crannies of its members. Traveltime’s fearless leader, someone I will refer to as Richard (actual name), is one of the most hyper-sensitive, reactionary, and ill equipped micromanagers that I have ever worked for. How he has managed to create a business that has survived for 27 years is beyond me. Over the last several months I’ve heard him tear apart his agents for lack of business, watched him give the silent treatment to someone who was leaving, and smelled the wasteland that he leaves behind in the bathroom (I’m not sure it’s human).
The last paragraph seems harsh. I’ve read it over several times, and I would like to water it down, but I’m having a tough time cutting anything out. As I was writing it, Richard was spraying venom because he had to answer a phone call. You would have thought that someone kicked his dog the way that he was reacting to the situation.
Most of the time he is friendly and cordial to me. I’m not sure why, but he seems to withhold his anger. I’ve never had to deal with the spittle and vitriol. Instead, my frustrations with Richard usually come in financial form. I’m the only accountant for the company. I pay bills, process journal entries, and produce financial statements. Traveltime’s financial statements are not pretty. There are losses each month. It’s not because the business isn’t doing well. Sales are up, costs are down, and new clients are on the horizon. The company is losing money because of Richard.
The line between personal and business expenses doesn’t exist for him. Richard wants a new deck for his house, Traveltime pays for it. A new Mercedes? Here’s a Traveltime check. Every member of his family owns a corporate credit card. I had to classify his daughter’s bar bills as a company expense last month. A $600 bill at an LA plastic surgeon doesn’t exactly scream "company expense" to me. Over the last four months, I have been complicit in more tax evasion tactics than the mob (okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but still, it’s been bad).
If you’ve made it this far, you might be asking yourself why I’m still here. Why participate in fraudulent activities in a hostile work environment? Well, for one thing, I nearly ended up on the streets before I got the job, and for another, it’s fun to watch everything unfold. Each day is a comedy of errors. It’s like I’m living in The Office, only less funny, and with many, many more curse words.
More to come…
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Life in the Employed Line
Holla,
I know that you’ve been concerned. It’s been months and I haven’t written a single word. You probably thought that I was kidnapped, or murdered, or, at the very least, very badly burned. What else could keep me from providing updates on my daily activities, right?
A job. That’s what is sucking all of my time and energy away from me. And an accounting job, no less. I know, I know, it’s awful. It’s more jarring news than if I had been burned. Since May I’ve been in the accounting department of a small company in San Diego. Soon after my last entry I received a job offer, and my creative pursuits were put on hold.
That is, until now. I’m back! Somewhat… Well, this is the first attempt to revive my once proud, and amazingly popular, blog. I have no idea how it will go, but this job has provided a wealth of stories that need to be told. And, I’m starting to run out of things to do during the day. Hopefully that will allow me to sneak an entry in here and there.
More to come (hopefully)…
I know that you’ve been concerned. It’s been months and I haven’t written a single word. You probably thought that I was kidnapped, or murdered, or, at the very least, very badly burned. What else could keep me from providing updates on my daily activities, right?
A job. That’s what is sucking all of my time and energy away from me. And an accounting job, no less. I know, I know, it’s awful. It’s more jarring news than if I had been burned. Since May I’ve been in the accounting department of a small company in San Diego. Soon after my last entry I received a job offer, and my creative pursuits were put on hold.
That is, until now. I’m back! Somewhat… Well, this is the first attempt to revive my once proud, and amazingly popular, blog. I have no idea how it will go, but this job has provided a wealth of stories that need to be told. And, I’m starting to run out of things to do during the day. Hopefully that will allow me to sneak an entry in here and there.
More to come (hopefully)…
Monday, May 3, 2010
New Beginnings
Holla,
Hope. A small glimmer of hope. It appeared today amidst gathering darkness. The streets were beckoning for me. The homeless of PB began looking at me differently. It was as if they recognized a new member. Instead of asking for change, they simply asked me how I was doing (and then quickly followed with a request for money). But this disaster has been averted for a small period of time. I have an extension to my budget. This hope came from the acquisition of a job...
Don't worry fair readers! This doesn't mean that I've escaped from the unemployment line. Far from it. I may be employed, but it is temporary. I may be receiving a paycheck, but for little more than what a Subway employee makes. I may be able to pay my rent next month, but it will come at the most extreme of costs...crippling boredom.
As I've discussed, I am currently using the services of several job placement companies. For months now, I've patiently called them, asking about any possibilities. When I manage to get a hold of them, which happens quite infrequently, the answer I usually receive is that they are still looking for the "right fit" for me. I told them that I would be willing to scrap gum off desks, using only my mouth, but I still couldn't get their attention.
And then last week happened. Out of nowhere, when nearly all possibilities were extinguished, I received a call about a position The job pays $12/hour, and is only supposed to last about a month. Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity. There was no job description given, no discussion of an increase in pay. I needed employment.
I arrived at an office building today and was escorted to a conference room with approximately 20 other drones. Every one of us had the gaunt appearance of unemployment and the stank of desperation hung over us. We eagerly awaited our laptops like it was a bowl of gruel.
Once we were all set up, we were given excel documents with line after line of home addresses. The company is purchasing tax liens from Florida. These liens are on distressed property in four different Floridian counties. Once the company purchases the liens, they are entitled to the tax payments from the homeowners. If the homeowners go into default, this company is then entitled to first rite of ownership on the property.
As the worker bees, we looked up each address in google maps. Using the satellite function, we determined whether or not the property existed and what kind of condition it was in (either "good" or "bad"). I did this for eight hours. Here is a breakdown of my mental state during the day:
8:30 - 10:30: Excited. I wanted to do a good job and prove that I was the best of the faceless masses.
10:30 - 12:00: Hungry. I've grown unaccustomed to the working world's eating schedule. Also, I started getting very tired.
12:00 - 1:00: Content, but restless. They brought in sandwiches for us, but we had to work through lunch. I slowly ate my meal, while staring at properties in Port Saint Francis.
1:00 - 2:00: More restless. My butt started hurting. I readjusted myself about once every thirty seconds.
2:00 - 3:00: More tired than I've ever been in my life. I couldn't click on the search button without falling asleep. I injected caffeine directly into my bloodstream with little effect.
3:00 - 3:30: Angry. Google maps was taking too long to load, and I considered punching my screen.
3:30 - 3:45: Defeated. The reality of the job started to sink in at this point. While I was earning money, the thought of returning tomorrow made me consider selling body parts as an alternative.
3:45 - 4:00: Excited. The day was coming to a close. I walked to the bathroom and managed to see the beautiful day outside. I could taste the sweet air of freedom.
4:00 - 4:15: Thoroughly annoyed. Every minute lasted an hour. The girl sitting next to me had a weird whistle to her nose-breathing. I couldn't focus on anything else.
4:15 - 4:30: Murderous. In the time it took to get from 4:17 to 4:18, I aged five years. The whistling wouldn't stop and I could hear the regular employees laughing and having a great time. I was looking up vacant lots in Lee County at this point and wanted to tear my eyeballs out.
4:30 - Now: Sooooo happy!!! I'm free for the evening!!! I will eventually receive money for my actions today, and can't wait to spend it. My spending will be restricted to paying my credit card bill, but still, it's something to spend money on.
I haven't started thinking about tomorrow quite yet. I'm sure that if I had waited to write this blog, the tone might have been significantly altered from its current state. While I'm not out of the woods yet, at least there is a tiny amount of that oh-so-important item...hope.
More to come...
Hope. A small glimmer of hope. It appeared today amidst gathering darkness. The streets were beckoning for me. The homeless of PB began looking at me differently. It was as if they recognized a new member. Instead of asking for change, they simply asked me how I was doing (and then quickly followed with a request for money). But this disaster has been averted for a small period of time. I have an extension to my budget. This hope came from the acquisition of a job...
Don't worry fair readers! This doesn't mean that I've escaped from the unemployment line. Far from it. I may be employed, but it is temporary. I may be receiving a paycheck, but for little more than what a Subway employee makes. I may be able to pay my rent next month, but it will come at the most extreme of costs...crippling boredom.
As I've discussed, I am currently using the services of several job placement companies. For months now, I've patiently called them, asking about any possibilities. When I manage to get a hold of them, which happens quite infrequently, the answer I usually receive is that they are still looking for the "right fit" for me. I told them that I would be willing to scrap gum off desks, using only my mouth, but I still couldn't get their attention.
And then last week happened. Out of nowhere, when nearly all possibilities were extinguished, I received a call about a position The job pays $12/hour, and is only supposed to last about a month. Naturally, I jumped at the opportunity. There was no job description given, no discussion of an increase in pay. I needed employment.
I arrived at an office building today and was escorted to a conference room with approximately 20 other drones. Every one of us had the gaunt appearance of unemployment and the stank of desperation hung over us. We eagerly awaited our laptops like it was a bowl of gruel.
Once we were all set up, we were given excel documents with line after line of home addresses. The company is purchasing tax liens from Florida. These liens are on distressed property in four different Floridian counties. Once the company purchases the liens, they are entitled to the tax payments from the homeowners. If the homeowners go into default, this company is then entitled to first rite of ownership on the property.
As the worker bees, we looked up each address in google maps. Using the satellite function, we determined whether or not the property existed and what kind of condition it was in (either "good" or "bad"). I did this for eight hours. Here is a breakdown of my mental state during the day:
8:30 - 10:30: Excited. I wanted to do a good job and prove that I was the best of the faceless masses.
10:30 - 12:00: Hungry. I've grown unaccustomed to the working world's eating schedule. Also, I started getting very tired.
12:00 - 1:00: Content, but restless. They brought in sandwiches for us, but we had to work through lunch. I slowly ate my meal, while staring at properties in Port Saint Francis.
1:00 - 2:00: More restless. My butt started hurting. I readjusted myself about once every thirty seconds.
2:00 - 3:00: More tired than I've ever been in my life. I couldn't click on the search button without falling asleep. I injected caffeine directly into my bloodstream with little effect.
3:00 - 3:30: Angry. Google maps was taking too long to load, and I considered punching my screen.
3:30 - 3:45: Defeated. The reality of the job started to sink in at this point. While I was earning money, the thought of returning tomorrow made me consider selling body parts as an alternative.
3:45 - 4:00: Excited. The day was coming to a close. I walked to the bathroom and managed to see the beautiful day outside. I could taste the sweet air of freedom.
4:00 - 4:15: Thoroughly annoyed. Every minute lasted an hour. The girl sitting next to me had a weird whistle to her nose-breathing. I couldn't focus on anything else.
4:15 - 4:30: Murderous. In the time it took to get from 4:17 to 4:18, I aged five years. The whistling wouldn't stop and I could hear the regular employees laughing and having a great time. I was looking up vacant lots in Lee County at this point and wanted to tear my eyeballs out.
4:30 - Now: Sooooo happy!!! I'm free for the evening!!! I will eventually receive money for my actions today, and can't wait to spend it. My spending will be restricted to paying my credit card bill, but still, it's something to spend money on.
I haven't started thinking about tomorrow quite yet. I'm sure that if I had waited to write this blog, the tone might have been significantly altered from its current state. While I'm not out of the woods yet, at least there is a tiny amount of that oh-so-important item...hope.
More to come...
Friday, April 16, 2010
No Pride Left to Swallow
Holla,
I like history. I enjoy learning about it. I like historical movies, and the History Channel, and Michael Jackson's HIStory.
I think history is important to know and appreciate in order to learn from it and apply its lessons to your own life. Here are some of the most important lessons that I've learned:
-If I ever happen to be the leader of France, I will not to try and invade Russia during wintertime.
-I will not ever, EVER, ban the consumption of alcohol, for it will lead to an increase in organized crime and violence.
-A woman with warts and a fondness for cats is not necessarily a witch, although she still might be frightening.
-I shouldn't ever leave a job without having another one in waiting. Searching for a job in San Diego is a fruitless affair.
I've carried these lessons with me for my entire life. I've never invaded a foreign country, never discouraged drinking, never killed a witch, and never left a job without....
Crap! See, this is why I should remind myself of my history. I would have remembered how awful it was to find a job in San Diego. Instead, I left my current employment, confident that I would have another position in very little time. Even when I began my job search, my level of self-entitlement was too high. I was too picky. If a position was too far away, or if the pay was too low, or if I didn't like the look of the company's website, I wouldn't send my resume.
I surfed through websites that I felt were somewhat legitimate. They weren't Craigslist, which is the red light district of the internet (I mean that more in the shady/gross sense, rather than its proclivity for pornographic material). Career Builder, Monster, San Diego Jobs were part of my daily routine. I looked through the sites and would pick out one or two positions that I considered potential candidates. A day or two would go by before I sent a resume, often feeling like a cover letter was unnecessary, and I would wait for a response. I followed this pattern for a couple of weeks. Results: 0 jobs.
After seeing no results from my first method, I moved onto phase II of my getting-a-job plan. I started visiting recruiting agencies. I noticed through my website searching that the majority of job postings were performed by these agencies. I set up a meeting with one of them, convinced that I would have a job in a limited time span. I selected the one that I thought was the best. This conclusion was mainly due to the appearance of their website rather than any additional research. I've been with them for over a month. Results: 0 jobs.
Phase III of my plan included expanding the breadth of my recruiting agency exposure. I met with another one last week, sent my resume to another this week, and placed phone calls to three others yesterday. I stopped caring about the appearance of their websites and decided to get them all working for me. Results: 0 jobs.
I recently dove into Phase IV. I want to warn you before I begin; It's not pretty. I spent the last several days on Craigslist. That's right. After vowing to never return to the muck-filled gutter that is this website, I've found myself creeping around the "Jobs Board" yet again. Today, I applied to a "staff accountant" position at a San Diego summer camp and a "general accountant" position at a hotel. They pay $13/hour and $15/hour respectively. Results: 0 jobs.
By ignoring my personal history, I'm now stuck applying for Craigslist jobs that contain candidate qualifications such as, "College Degree - Preferred". I'm calling recruiting agencies that haven't returned my phone calls in weeks. I'm starting to look at the Subway employees, and wondering how much they are paid on an hourly basis.
I have no pride left. I'm willing to do anything, and yet, the results remain the same. 0 jobs.
More to come...
I like history. I enjoy learning about it. I like historical movies, and the History Channel, and Michael Jackson's HIStory.
I think history is important to know and appreciate in order to learn from it and apply its lessons to your own life. Here are some of the most important lessons that I've learned:
-If I ever happen to be the leader of France, I will not to try and invade Russia during wintertime.
-I will not ever, EVER, ban the consumption of alcohol, for it will lead to an increase in organized crime and violence.
-A woman with warts and a fondness for cats is not necessarily a witch, although she still might be frightening.
-I shouldn't ever leave a job without having another one in waiting. Searching for a job in San Diego is a fruitless affair.
I've carried these lessons with me for my entire life. I've never invaded a foreign country, never discouraged drinking, never killed a witch, and never left a job without....
Crap! See, this is why I should remind myself of my history. I would have remembered how awful it was to find a job in San Diego. Instead, I left my current employment, confident that I would have another position in very little time. Even when I began my job search, my level of self-entitlement was too high. I was too picky. If a position was too far away, or if the pay was too low, or if I didn't like the look of the company's website, I wouldn't send my resume.
I surfed through websites that I felt were somewhat legitimate. They weren't Craigslist, which is the red light district of the internet (I mean that more in the shady/gross sense, rather than its proclivity for pornographic material). Career Builder, Monster, San Diego Jobs were part of my daily routine. I looked through the sites and would pick out one or two positions that I considered potential candidates. A day or two would go by before I sent a resume, often feeling like a cover letter was unnecessary, and I would wait for a response. I followed this pattern for a couple of weeks. Results: 0 jobs.
After seeing no results from my first method, I moved onto phase II of my getting-a-job plan. I started visiting recruiting agencies. I noticed through my website searching that the majority of job postings were performed by these agencies. I set up a meeting with one of them, convinced that I would have a job in a limited time span. I selected the one that I thought was the best. This conclusion was mainly due to the appearance of their website rather than any additional research. I've been with them for over a month. Results: 0 jobs.
Phase III of my plan included expanding the breadth of my recruiting agency exposure. I met with another one last week, sent my resume to another this week, and placed phone calls to three others yesterday. I stopped caring about the appearance of their websites and decided to get them all working for me. Results: 0 jobs.
I recently dove into Phase IV. I want to warn you before I begin; It's not pretty. I spent the last several days on Craigslist. That's right. After vowing to never return to the muck-filled gutter that is this website, I've found myself creeping around the "Jobs Board" yet again. Today, I applied to a "staff accountant" position at a San Diego summer camp and a "general accountant" position at a hotel. They pay $13/hour and $15/hour respectively. Results: 0 jobs.
By ignoring my personal history, I'm now stuck applying for Craigslist jobs that contain candidate qualifications such as, "College Degree - Preferred". I'm calling recruiting agencies that haven't returned my phone calls in weeks. I'm starting to look at the Subway employees, and wondering how much they are paid on an hourly basis.
I have no pride left. I'm willing to do anything, and yet, the results remain the same. 0 jobs.
More to come...
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Stress-Bots
Holla,
Stress-bots: Deadly creatures that come at the most inopportune, inappropriate, inconvenient times (adding "in" makes it the opposite, apparently). I spoke briefly about the effect of the stress bots in my latest sports blog posting (sotalove.blogspot.com - it's amazing), but I thought that this was the more appropriate forum for me to delve deeper into the subject.
Earlier this week, still in the midst of trying to find that damned junicorn, I was viciously attacked by a rabid pack of stress-bots. I wasn't afraid initially. Stress-bots appear friendly at first:
Don't be fooled! These foul creatures are never fun to deal with; especially for those individuals who haven't dealt with them in a considerable amount of time. Say, for instance, over two years. You forget about their steely, cold grip and their dead, light-bulb eyes.
At first, you might even welcome the stress-bots into your life. You might feel like you are doing something productive for the first time in, say, over two years. It could feel good to have a clearly defined purpose and goal for yourself. This is when the stress-bots are at their most dangerous.
In very little time these creatures turn into all-consuming monsters of death. They feed off of your outside interests.
-You want to write blog posts? Nope, sorry. Stress-bots ate those as appetizers.
-You want to exercise? Please. That's their soup and salad.
-You want to devote more time to your significant other? That's what they enjoy most. It's their t-bone steak.
-You have hopes and dreams of being a writer? That's the meal these robots eat at midnight, when they've digested their dinner and aren't ready to turn off for the night.
The more the stress-bots eat, the more powerful they become. Say you are trying to sell your group of friends on making an investment, you can't catch a junicorn, your bank account is dwindling, you aren't actively working towards your dreams, your parent's stopped paying attention to you because their first grandchild was born, and you're trying to make a long-distance relationship work (this is purely a hypothetical scenario). What kind of stress-bot will you be facing?
Oh No! It's become of stress-dragon! And it's even cuter than before! I can't express how dangerous this is!
Be careful out there.
More to come...
Stress-bots: Deadly creatures that come at the most inopportune, inappropriate, inconvenient times (adding "in" makes it the opposite, apparently). I spoke briefly about the effect of the stress bots in my latest sports blog posting (sotalove.blogspot.com - it's amazing), but I thought that this was the more appropriate forum for me to delve deeper into the subject.
Earlier this week, still in the midst of trying to find that damned junicorn, I was viciously attacked by a rabid pack of stress-bots. I wasn't afraid initially. Stress-bots appear friendly at first:
Don't be fooled! These foul creatures are never fun to deal with; especially for those individuals who haven't dealt with them in a considerable amount of time. Say, for instance, over two years. You forget about their steely, cold grip and their dead, light-bulb eyes.
At first, you might even welcome the stress-bots into your life. You might feel like you are doing something productive for the first time in, say, over two years. It could feel good to have a clearly defined purpose and goal for yourself. This is when the stress-bots are at their most dangerous.
In very little time these creatures turn into all-consuming monsters of death. They feed off of your outside interests.
-You want to write blog posts? Nope, sorry. Stress-bots ate those as appetizers.
-You want to exercise? Please. That's their soup and salad.
-You want to devote more time to your significant other? That's what they enjoy most. It's their t-bone steak.
-You have hopes and dreams of being a writer? That's the meal these robots eat at midnight, when they've digested their dinner and aren't ready to turn off for the night.
The more the stress-bots eat, the more powerful they become. Say you are trying to sell your group of friends on making an investment, you can't catch a junicorn, your bank account is dwindling, you aren't actively working towards your dreams, your parent's stopped paying attention to you because their first grandchild was born, and you're trying to make a long-distance relationship work (this is purely a hypothetical scenario). What kind of stress-bot will you be facing?
Oh No! It's become of stress-dragon! And it's even cuter than before! I can't express how dangerous this is!
Be careful out there.
More to come...
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Unexpected Results
Holla,
The beginning of April is here. Spring has fully arrived. The weather has been warmer, the flowers are blooming, and the beach is once again whispering sweet nothings in my ear. It's a time of rebirth, promise, and hope after the long, harsh winter (actually, San Diego's winter is not all that long, or harsh, but it helps to demonstrate my point a little better...). Nearly everywhere I look, things are thriving, excited by the promise of the season. Everywhere, that is, except in my employment status.
When I made the decision to leave my bartending position, I didn't think that my job hunt would prove to be this difficult. After all, I was planning to enter back into the corporate world. I was willing to accept a mind-numbing, soul-sucking, accounting position. I was even planning to dust off the business casual section of my closet, for Christ's sake. And yet, the job continues to elude me like some sort of mythical creature. I've been hunting through the murk, sending resumes through numerous websites, fax machines, and electronic mails for nearly a month, but the junicorn (that's job and unicorn combined) keeps escaping my grasp.
Prior to my venture into the world of unemployment, I managed to amass enough work experience fodder to create a mildly impressive resume. I worked at a big 4 accounting firm, I created accounting processes at a highly complex trading desk, I started two businesses, and still managed to be proficient in Spanish (don't test me on this). Apparently, however, this page of Micah information does not seem to stand out among the masses. Of the 30 or so positions for which I've applied, I've received responses from only one. This position, which I've previously written about, was for a glorified Home Depot representative. Super!!!
I started working with placement service companies recently, hoping that my success rate would improve. I even interviewed with one of them. I told them that I was looking for anything that paid, from the most menial tasks to executive level positions. I left the meeting feeling fairly confident that I would have at least some opportunities within the following week.
It's now been nearly three weeks since that interview. I've called the company four times, and have spoken to my placement service representative twice. The first time that I spoke with her, she told me to call her back in a week. Today, being a week later, I talked with her again. After two minutes, she told me that she was getting another call, and that she promised she would call me back once she was finished. It's now been five hours since that conversation, and I'm starting to get the idea that they might not have much to offer me.
Over a year ago, I often wrote about my experiences with Craigslist. At the time I was looking for writing and acting jobs and felt like Craigslist was one of the shadier locations on the interwebs. I felt like I was sending out countless emails, getting very little responses, and was occasionally exposed to various scams. I didn't expect to get the same dirty sensation while searching for legitimate employment, but I'm starting to get that all-too-familiar scuzzy feeling once again.
The hunting must continue. That's my only choice, really. Either I catch that damned junicorn, or I start sleeping in the streets. As always, I'll keep you periodically informed.
More to come...
The beginning of April is here. Spring has fully arrived. The weather has been warmer, the flowers are blooming, and the beach is once again whispering sweet nothings in my ear. It's a time of rebirth, promise, and hope after the long, harsh winter (actually, San Diego's winter is not all that long, or harsh, but it helps to demonstrate my point a little better...). Nearly everywhere I look, things are thriving, excited by the promise of the season. Everywhere, that is, except in my employment status.
When I made the decision to leave my bartending position, I didn't think that my job hunt would prove to be this difficult. After all, I was planning to enter back into the corporate world. I was willing to accept a mind-numbing, soul-sucking, accounting position. I was even planning to dust off the business casual section of my closet, for Christ's sake. And yet, the job continues to elude me like some sort of mythical creature. I've been hunting through the murk, sending resumes through numerous websites, fax machines, and electronic mails for nearly a month, but the junicorn (that's job and unicorn combined) keeps escaping my grasp.
Prior to my venture into the world of unemployment, I managed to amass enough work experience fodder to create a mildly impressive resume. I worked at a big 4 accounting firm, I created accounting processes at a highly complex trading desk, I started two businesses, and still managed to be proficient in Spanish (don't test me on this). Apparently, however, this page of Micah information does not seem to stand out among the masses. Of the 30 or so positions for which I've applied, I've received responses from only one. This position, which I've previously written about, was for a glorified Home Depot representative. Super!!!
I started working with placement service companies recently, hoping that my success rate would improve. I even interviewed with one of them. I told them that I was looking for anything that paid, from the most menial tasks to executive level positions. I left the meeting feeling fairly confident that I would have at least some opportunities within the following week.
It's now been nearly three weeks since that interview. I've called the company four times, and have spoken to my placement service representative twice. The first time that I spoke with her, she told me to call her back in a week. Today, being a week later, I talked with her again. After two minutes, she told me that she was getting another call, and that she promised she would call me back once she was finished. It's now been five hours since that conversation, and I'm starting to get the idea that they might not have much to offer me.
Over a year ago, I often wrote about my experiences with Craigslist. At the time I was looking for writing and acting jobs and felt like Craigslist was one of the shadier locations on the interwebs. I felt like I was sending out countless emails, getting very little responses, and was occasionally exposed to various scams. I didn't expect to get the same dirty sensation while searching for legitimate employment, but I'm starting to get that all-too-familiar scuzzy feeling once again.
The hunting must continue. That's my only choice, really. Either I catch that damned junicorn, or I start sleeping in the streets. As always, I'll keep you periodically informed.
More to come...
Monday, March 22, 2010
Running on Empty
Holla,
My body hurts. My brain feels like it's partially deflated. I'm squinting in order to make the words less blurry. I'd like to blame an excessive work schedule or an all-night writing session, but I cannot. If I could point at a crying child or excessively loud neighbors for my current condition it would make me feel less guilty.
No, I brought this on myself.
Drinking made me feel this way. And not just one night of drinking. This was a legitimate binge. It was the perfect storm of drinking conditions that caused this outburst: A holiday dedicated to green beer, a visiting friend, a basketball tournament, and a life in the unemployment line. A stronger man would have foregone some of this temptation, but unfortunately I am weak (as evidenced by my soft mid-section that is beginning to hang over my waistband).
Although the details of the last five days are blurry, here is a rough outline of my schedule:
Wednesday: St. Patrick's Day bar crawl - First drink, 2 pm.
Thursday: Arrival of friend from Minnesota - First drink, 8 pm.
Friday: Badger basketball game - First drink, 12 pm.
Saturday: Back yard party - First drink, 5 pm.
Sunday: Badger basketball game/ epic boccie ball tournament - First Drink, 11 am.
Here is a brief list of accomplishments during that time period: Drank green beer, created drinking game (Totally Taut Towel Toss), lost a beach football game, lost a credit card, lost a driver's license, danced with a pole (different than pole danced), climbed a palm tree, lost a flag football game, watched the Badgers lose badly, spent too much money, ate terrible pizza, ate a delicious street hot dog, threw a boccie ball into the street, and destroyed my body.
Here is a list of accomplishments that did not occur during that time period: Finding a job, saving money, writing, going to the gym, cleaning my room, practicing good oral hygiene, eating one healthy item of food, or figuring out what I'm doing with my life.
It was an incredible weekend, but the hangover is severe. As I've gotten older, hangovers have gotten progressively worse. When you throw in the fact that I'm unemployed, running out of money, and without a clear plan of the future, it makes things hurt all that much more. It's time for me to get back on the wagon, be productive, and get a job.
That is, at least, until this weekend.
-More to come...
My body hurts. My brain feels like it's partially deflated. I'm squinting in order to make the words less blurry. I'd like to blame an excessive work schedule or an all-night writing session, but I cannot. If I could point at a crying child or excessively loud neighbors for my current condition it would make me feel less guilty.
No, I brought this on myself.
Drinking made me feel this way. And not just one night of drinking. This was a legitimate binge. It was the perfect storm of drinking conditions that caused this outburst: A holiday dedicated to green beer, a visiting friend, a basketball tournament, and a life in the unemployment line. A stronger man would have foregone some of this temptation, but unfortunately I am weak (as evidenced by my soft mid-section that is beginning to hang over my waistband).
Although the details of the last five days are blurry, here is a rough outline of my schedule:
Wednesday: St. Patrick's Day bar crawl - First drink, 2 pm.
Thursday: Arrival of friend from Minnesota - First drink, 8 pm.
Friday: Badger basketball game - First drink, 12 pm.
Saturday: Back yard party - First drink, 5 pm.
Sunday: Badger basketball game/ epic boccie ball tournament - First Drink, 11 am.
Here is a brief list of accomplishments during that time period: Drank green beer, created drinking game (Totally Taut Towel Toss), lost a beach football game, lost a credit card, lost a driver's license, danced with a pole (different than pole danced), climbed a palm tree, lost a flag football game, watched the Badgers lose badly, spent too much money, ate terrible pizza, ate a delicious street hot dog, threw a boccie ball into the street, and destroyed my body.
Here is a list of accomplishments that did not occur during that time period: Finding a job, saving money, writing, going to the gym, cleaning my room, practicing good oral hygiene, eating one healthy item of food, or figuring out what I'm doing with my life.
It was an incredible weekend, but the hangover is severe. As I've gotten older, hangovers have gotten progressively worse. When you throw in the fact that I'm unemployed, running out of money, and without a clear plan of the future, it makes things hurt all that much more. It's time for me to get back on the wagon, be productive, and get a job.
That is, at least, until this weekend.
-More to come...
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