Today I pulled out my black suit jacket and rolled it with my lint brush so I don't have another unfortunate incident in the parking lot tomorrow. As much as I'm going to miss Scooter when I got back to work, I don't want to bring pieces of him with me on my jacket! You know.. Dog fur. I had to clarify because that sounded kind of gross.
As I was rolling the jacket, I slowed down and got nostalgic. I can remember buying this Suit not long after I got laid off. I was so optimistic! So sure that it was going to get me hired fast! I remember my first interview for a job I didn't get.
I also remember getting it dry cleaned and then waiting. And waiting. It felt like forever! Then I finally used it for the job agencies. Still nothing. And then without an interview, or the suit, I finally get a (temporary) job!
But I will be taking him with me tomorrow. (Yes, my suit is a him. I don't know why. It just popped into my head... Let's go with it.)
I'm so nervous. It doesn't help that we are supposed to get a couple inches of snow tonight (really?!?) and I don't do well in snow. But it's supposed to stop early and I don't have to be there until 10, so I'm hoping the timing works out.
I have a list of things I need to do. And my friend Susie gave me some good advice that I added to the list: Just breathe. I have to remember to do that!
I will be ok. There are so many worse things I could be doing. I could be on a boat in the middle of the ocean like Robert Redford in All is Lost. (My new motto. Think of Robert Redford in a boat). That Slooh asteroid could be coming directly at us instead of missing us by a couple million miles or so.
So that's it. I could be Robert Redford. Or be hit by an asteroid. I do know how to put things in perspective!
Wish me luck...
Monday, February 17, 2014
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Faking It
If you are my friend on Facebook then you know that I signed a job offer on my birthday. It's the temporary job I was waiting for in my last post and starts on Tuesday. Do you know how when you are scared and almost dreading something, time just flies by? That's what's happening here.
Only two more days until I have to work. I was hired without an interview, so I don't even know these people except by email and phone.
I feel like I have so much more I need to do before working again. I wanted to learn to knit! I had more cross stitch projects I wanted to do. How am I going to watch Bones and Friends? Who is going to keep Scooter and the cats company?
There's no doubt I needed a job and I'm happy to have one, but I'd gotten used to a more relaxed lifestyle and how I can go back to the other way now?
I have lists of things I feel I need to do, but I haven't written them down. A haircut. Clothes. Shoes. What am I going to wear? Obviously my interview outfit the first day, but what is their dress code going to be?
I feel like it's the first day of school. In a new school. I did that once. I can do this too. And nobody is as judgmental as high school kids. Compared to that, this will be a piece of cake! Mmm... Cake.
The lady that I met at third job agency told me that she was an introvert so she has to "fake it until she makes it." I keep thinking that's what I'll have to do at first. Not fake my personality, but fake the confidence that I rarely actually feel except in writing. And Facebook.
I just have to focus. Get on track. I can do this. I CAN DO THIS. Fake it until I make it baby!
And eat plenty of cake.
Only two more days until I have to work. I was hired without an interview, so I don't even know these people except by email and phone.
I feel like I have so much more I need to do before working again. I wanted to learn to knit! I had more cross stitch projects I wanted to do. How am I going to watch Bones and Friends? Who is going to keep Scooter and the cats company?
There's no doubt I needed a job and I'm happy to have one, but I'd gotten used to a more relaxed lifestyle and how I can go back to the other way now?
I have lists of things I feel I need to do, but I haven't written them down. A haircut. Clothes. Shoes. What am I going to wear? Obviously my interview outfit the first day, but what is their dress code going to be?
I feel like it's the first day of school. In a new school. I did that once. I can do this too. And nobody is as judgmental as high school kids. Compared to that, this will be a piece of cake! Mmm... Cake.
The lady that I met at third job agency told me that she was an introvert so she has to "fake it until she makes it." I keep thinking that's what I'll have to do at first. Not fake my personality, but fake the confidence that I rarely actually feel except in writing. And Facebook.
I just have to focus. Get on track. I can do this. I CAN DO THIS. Fake it until I make it baby!
And eat plenty of cake.
Friday, February 7, 2014
The Waiting Game
I got a job offer this week. It's a temporary job, but not through a job agency. The company contacted me on their own. I'm still waiting for them to finalize the paperwork and send me an offer letter. All of this makes me very nervous. Just the job description is extensive and it's been so long since I worked. But it's temporary which means I'm not committing to anything.
But I'm still waiting... And waiting. It's 1:49. I'm hoping to hear something soon or I won't hear anything until Monday. I don't even know when I'll start. It would be kind of sucky to start around my birthday, but if that's what I have to do...
3:48: I just got the email and it looks like details have been put off until a meeting on 2/11. I guess that's a sign I might not be working on my birthday, yet I was kind of hoping to go to work soon.
I guess that's the way it is in the employment game. It's a waiting game! Hey, that's the title of this blog entry. Wow. That's quite a coincidence!
Stay tuned because I do have another moscato to try his weekend! 
Thursday, February 6, 2014
So Saucy
Lately I've been looking at old cookbooks. Whenever we go to thrift stores or used bookstores, I like to skim through them because some of the older recipes are just...gross and strange. My mom brought over some cookbooks she had and one of them was a children's cookbook from 1963. "For the Hostess and Host of tomorrow." Yeah, I'm scared too.
This is the first picture I see:
Timmy: "Watch me take out my saucy frank..."
Sally: "Your frank is saucy. So plump..."
Just in case you thought I was making this up...
Saucy Franks give you plenty of spicy sauce for the buns... That's what he said!
After Amanda made herself a grape float, she went straight to the convent.
When life gives you lemons, this clown will suck out your soul!
Even I don't need a recipe for cinnamon toast and I'm blonde!
Would anyone like to board the S.S. Bob? Destination...eww.
Kids, if anyone wants to put a egg in your bun, say NO. Trust me.
Why is the girl on her knees making "some-mores"? That's not right! "Baby get down and make me some-more." At least it wasn't saucy franks.
Here's a close-up. Feels like it might be one of those swingers clubs, but with snacks.
Have I ever tasted a doughnut sundae?? Hell no! That sounds like the best invention EVER! Why is the moon walk the biggest achievement we hear about from the 60's? We had doughnut sundaes! The 60's WERE awesome. I'm so trying that.
This is not what you might thinking reading the word drumstick. It's ground beef on a stick. With bacon on it. Yeah, it's that awesome.
My spaghetti brings all the monkey's grinders to the yard... This is disturbing in many ways. First of all, why is this man lurking around this young girl's window? And why is spaghetti made with Vienna Sausages? It's literally a can of spaghetti with Vienna sausages added. It's redneck spaghetti! Or unemployed person spaghetti. Hmm...
This soup. Not so super...
Someone once offered me their magic white sauce. It was not what I expected..
"If Father serves at your house, the plates belong in a stack at his place." Father cannot be bothered to get up and serve people.
I don't know what to say about this. It's under "salads". It's pineapple, two nuts, and some cherries? So much innuendo... Brain...over...load....
This is a tomato sandwich salad. It's layers of tomato and cottage cheese. And lettuce. Mmm....
Well, that concludes our trip back in time. There was so much more I could've commented on. Like when they tell you that you can make breakfast for your mom, "ask Dad if he'd turn out in time to make a pot of coffee for you." Turn out? There was also apple sauce made from Red Hot's and Perky cooky (sic) faces made from vanilla wafers. So many ways to scare away any guests who come to your house for dinner!
Now I have to go. It's Doughnut Sundae time!! It's going on my shopping list right after Vienna Sausage...
This is the first picture I see:
Timmy: "Watch me take out my saucy frank..."
Sally: "Your frank is saucy. So plump..."
Just in case you thought I was making this up...
Saucy Franks give you plenty of spicy sauce for the buns... That's what he said!
After Amanda made herself a grape float, she went straight to the convent.
When life gives you lemons, this clown will suck out your soul!
Even I don't need a recipe for cinnamon toast and I'm blonde!
Would anyone like to board the S.S. Bob? Destination...eww.
Kids, if anyone wants to put a egg in your bun, say NO. Trust me.
Why is the girl on her knees making "some-mores"? That's not right! "Baby get down and make me some-more." At least it wasn't saucy franks.
Here's a close-up. Feels like it might be one of those swingers clubs, but with snacks.
Have I ever tasted a doughnut sundae?? Hell no! That sounds like the best invention EVER! Why is the moon walk the biggest achievement we hear about from the 60's? We had doughnut sundaes! The 60's WERE awesome. I'm so trying that.
This is not what you might thinking reading the word drumstick. It's ground beef on a stick. With bacon on it. Yeah, it's that awesome.
My spaghetti brings all the monkey's grinders to the yard... This is disturbing in many ways. First of all, why is this man lurking around this young girl's window? And why is spaghetti made with Vienna Sausages? It's literally a can of spaghetti with Vienna sausages added. It's redneck spaghetti! Or unemployed person spaghetti. Hmm...
This soup. Not so super...
Someone once offered me their magic white sauce. It was not what I expected..
"If Father serves at your house, the plates belong in a stack at his place." Father cannot be bothered to get up and serve people.
I don't know what to say about this. It's under "salads". It's pineapple, two nuts, and some cherries? So much innuendo... Brain...over...load....
This is a tomato sandwich salad. It's layers of tomato and cottage cheese. And lettuce. Mmm....
Well, that concludes our trip back in time. There was so much more I could've commented on. Like when they tell you that you can make breakfast for your mom, "ask Dad if he'd turn out in time to make a pot of coffee for you." Turn out? There was also apple sauce made from Red Hot's and Perky cooky (sic) faces made from vanilla wafers. So many ways to scare away any guests who come to your house for dinner!
Now I have to go. It's Doughnut Sundae time!! It's going on my shopping list right after Vienna Sausage...
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
What Was I Thinking? Summer Lovin' Edition
Growing up in the 80's, tanning was still the thing you did in the summer. As soon as the temps went up, the girls got out the Coppertone oil, grabbed their bathing suits and laid out in their chaise lounges in the backyard. Sunscreen was for wusses!
I was so pale I could get mistaken for paper, but despite that, I always thought every summer was the summer I was going to get that elusive tan. I went after it like 'squach hunters go after Sasquatch...only with less feces in the woods. I was determined every summer was the one!
Tans were so important that I dreaded going to school during summer and shorts season more than any other season of the year. Even though we had summer breaks, you still had a little overlap where you had no choice but to wear shorts or die of heat exhaustion. Air conditioning back then wasn't what it is now. It was non-existent in buses. Then there was gym and recess...well, you get the point.
Over the years, I had my fair share of teasing and bullying, but one of the insults that sticks in my head was a boy who called me, "Albino." Now in restrospect it seems kind of tame, but for some reason it was so insulting at the time, I've never forgotten it.
Wanting a tan made me do very strange things. My mom brought over some more pictures the other day and I found this one:
As soon as I found this picture, I groaned at my past self, "Oh Dear God, why?"
I remember this picture and this day. It was at a family cookout (which is why my late uncle is letting my cousins out of our little kid prison--er, I mean our tent trailer that we opened up in the middle of our backyard...because that's how we rolled back in the day) and I wanted my face to get tanned. So instead of waiting for a time when I was alone and nobody could witness my psycho sun worshiping, I did it in front of everyone. And I can't say I did it for a short period of time. This went on for awhile! Way too long.
As you can tell by my pale, freckled (albino) face, it was pretty much a waste of time. But thanks to the magic of photography the moment has been framed forever...and ever.
Maybe I can tell people I was doing yoga... It's the sitting down warrior pose! Yes, that's it....
I was so pale I could get mistaken for paper, but despite that, I always thought every summer was the summer I was going to get that elusive tan. I went after it like 'squach hunters go after Sasquatch...only with less feces in the woods. I was determined every summer was the one!
Tans were so important that I dreaded going to school during summer and shorts season more than any other season of the year. Even though we had summer breaks, you still had a little overlap where you had no choice but to wear shorts or die of heat exhaustion. Air conditioning back then wasn't what it is now. It was non-existent in buses. Then there was gym and recess...well, you get the point.
Over the years, I had my fair share of teasing and bullying, but one of the insults that sticks in my head was a boy who called me, "Albino." Now in restrospect it seems kind of tame, but for some reason it was so insulting at the time, I've never forgotten it.
Wanting a tan made me do very strange things. My mom brought over some more pictures the other day and I found this one:
As soon as I found this picture, I groaned at my past self, "Oh Dear God, why?"
I remember this picture and this day. It was at a family cookout (which is why my late uncle is letting my cousins out of our little kid prison--er, I mean our tent trailer that we opened up in the middle of our backyard...because that's how we rolled back in the day) and I wanted my face to get tanned. So instead of waiting for a time when I was alone and nobody could witness my psycho sun worshiping, I did it in front of everyone. And I can't say I did it for a short period of time. This went on for awhile! Way too long.
As you can tell by my pale, freckled (albino) face, it was pretty much a waste of time. But thanks to the magic of photography the moment has been framed forever...and ever.
Maybe I can tell people I was doing yoga... It's the sitting down warrior pose! Yes, that's it....
Monday, February 3, 2014
Look at this Photograph...
Do you remember a time before digital cameras when whatever pictures you took was the ones you were stuck with? Back then there was no do-overs. You couldn't screen your pictures before posting them online (what was online?) or printing them out. In those days, you would fill a roll of film with pictures and when you were done, you take it to the drugstore or grocery store to be developed. A week or so later (or the next day when they started 24 hour developing) you would pick them up. The pictures you imagined were totally awesome would be... Not awesome.
The other day when I was looking for blog ideas, I found pictures of a day back in the 90's that I spent with my friend Susie at the mall. It just reminded me how very un-photogenic I truly am. She looked like a model in the pictures and I looked like.. err... Well, I'll show you.
Here she is eating a French fry:
She looks beautiful. Perfect lipstick, great smile! There's even a Cinnabon behind her with the sign: "Served Oven Hot." She really was oven hot!
There there's me:
Do not adjust your monitors. I am that pale! Like Susie, I'm eating, but instead of looking sexy, I look like a hamster hoarding food in her cheeks. My bangs are awful because it was the 90's and they weren't happy about it. There's an Arby's behind me and as tasty as their food is, it just reminds people of hot beef. Not exactly a Cinnabon!
Here's another picture of Susie:
Even though these pictures are posed, she looks natural. Like, oopsie, I dropped something! Let me flip my hair and pick it up! Ooo, look at my long golden locks flowing behind my back!
Me again:
I'm sitting by a mall fountain thinking pensively to myself. A very natural pose. Everyone has deep thoughts in a crowded mall eatery, right? What's up with the woman wearing a red coat with a blue shirt underneath? Thanks for adding to the absurdity of the picture! Then there's the little girl photobombing me. I appreciate her attempt to add some cuteness to this picture, but nothing is going to help it at this point. Especially when there's someone wearing a Cosby sweater in the background. My bangs are getting angrier. They are trying as hard as they can to band together and blind me in one eye.
One more picture:
Susie still looks good, her hair over one shoulder, lipstick still perfect. She has the frilly shirt with big sweater that just somehow works. Then you look at me... My eyes are closed, my pants are way too tight, my bangs have somehow spread out in an attempt to blind me in both eyes and what's with my jacket? (I can't even talk about the paisley shirt) I'm not sure why we posed in front of the Aladdin display, but that magic lamp is ejaculating all over me!
And what is a Love Field?? Whatever is it, you have to be over 13 to go there!
This is why I hide whenever someone pulls out a camera. I know what's going to happen. Everyone else is going to look like a contestant for America's Next Top Model and I will look like something they created on Face Off!
But this is me. It's how I am. it's not like I don't have other talents. Like storing food in my cheeks for winter! Does anyone want some fruit cake from Christmas?
Until next time... Enjoy the Nickelback earworm from my title! You are welcome...
The other day when I was looking for blog ideas, I found pictures of a day back in the 90's that I spent with my friend Susie at the mall. It just reminded me how very un-photogenic I truly am. She looked like a model in the pictures and I looked like.. err... Well, I'll show you.
Here she is eating a French fry:
She looks beautiful. Perfect lipstick, great smile! There's even a Cinnabon behind her with the sign: "Served Oven Hot." She really was oven hot!
There there's me:
Do not adjust your monitors. I am that pale! Like Susie, I'm eating, but instead of looking sexy, I look like a hamster hoarding food in her cheeks. My bangs are awful because it was the 90's and they weren't happy about it. There's an Arby's behind me and as tasty as their food is, it just reminds people of hot beef. Not exactly a Cinnabon!
Here's another picture of Susie:
Even though these pictures are posed, she looks natural. Like, oopsie, I dropped something! Let me flip my hair and pick it up! Ooo, look at my long golden locks flowing behind my back!
Me again:
I'm sitting by a mall fountain thinking pensively to myself. A very natural pose. Everyone has deep thoughts in a crowded mall eatery, right? What's up with the woman wearing a red coat with a blue shirt underneath? Thanks for adding to the absurdity of the picture! Then there's the little girl photobombing me. I appreciate her attempt to add some cuteness to this picture, but nothing is going to help it at this point. Especially when there's someone wearing a Cosby sweater in the background. My bangs are getting angrier. They are trying as hard as they can to band together and blind me in one eye.
One more picture:
Susie still looks good, her hair over one shoulder, lipstick still perfect. She has the frilly shirt with big sweater that just somehow works. Then you look at me... My eyes are closed, my pants are way too tight, my bangs have somehow spread out in an attempt to blind me in both eyes and what's with my jacket? (I can't even talk about the paisley shirt) I'm not sure why we posed in front of the Aladdin display, but that magic lamp is ejaculating all over me!
And what is a Love Field?? Whatever is it, you have to be over 13 to go there!
This is why I hide whenever someone pulls out a camera. I know what's going to happen. Everyone else is going to look like a contestant for America's Next Top Model and I will look like something they created on Face Off!
But this is me. It's how I am. it's not like I don't have other talents. Like storing food in my cheeks for winter! Does anyone want some fruit cake from Christmas?
Until next time... Enjoy the Nickelback earworm from my title! You are welcome...
Sunday, February 2, 2014
Muscat Love
Back around Christmas, my friends put a bottle of wine in my Christmas Care package. I opened it up on Christmas day and it was really good. Since then I've looked everywhere--even on the website listed on the bottle and haven't found anymore bottles of the wine. I haven't totally given up, but it's time to move on. I was telling Katie about it and she said I should try a different Moscato every week or month and blog about it.
That's why I've decided to do a Moscato experiment! For science of course.
According to Urban Dictionary:
Moscato is a sweet slightly sparkling wine made from muscat grapes made popular by rappers such as kanye west. (sic)
See! I'm as cool as Kanye West! I always knew I was!
Since I'm unemployed, my first experiment is with a cheap wine that I heard good things about. From Kanye and Kim of course.
It's Barefoot Wine's, Moscato.
It's also 10% off at the grocery store so score! Since I still don't have any wine glasses, I buy some super fancy cups at the store as well.
That's right! I do things right! Just like Kanye! "ULTRA" Designer cups!
I have my wine. I have my pizza. Now it's time to drink! I open up a Word document and go to work. Last night was also the night for me to do my Melly's Saturday Night Story Snark on Facebook, so that's what I'm talking about when I say snarking. (If you want to join the group, click on this link and ask to join: https://www.facebook.com/groups/357546877655252/)
So here it is. My scientific results of the Moscato experiment:
****
****
Overall I'd say that the wine was good, but not as good as the one before. On a Buzz scale, I'd give it 7 out of 10. I am happy to say that I didn't drink the entire bottle, but I came close!
Onto my next wine. If anyone knows a good Moscato, please recommend it! I'll put it on the list.
Until next time... Kick it up a notch!
That's why I've decided to do a Moscato experiment! For science of course.
According to Urban Dictionary:
Moscato is a sweet slightly sparkling wine made from muscat grapes made popular by rappers such as kanye west. (sic)
See! I'm as cool as Kanye West! I always knew I was!
Since I'm unemployed, my first experiment is with a cheap wine that I heard good things about. From Kanye and Kim of course.
It's Barefoot Wine's, Moscato.
It's also 10% off at the grocery store so score! Since I still don't have any wine glasses, I buy some super fancy cups at the store as well.
That's right! I do things right! Just like Kanye! "ULTRA" Designer cups!
I have my wine. I have my pizza. Now it's time to drink! I open up a Word document and go to work. Last night was also the night for me to do my Melly's Saturday Night Story Snark on Facebook, so that's what I'm talking about when I say snarking. (If you want to join the group, click on this link and ask to join: https://www.facebook.com/groups/357546877655252/)
So here it is. My scientific results of the Moscato experiment:
****
Experiment: Barefoot Moscato
8:00. I pour the wine into my fancy plastic cup. Half a bottle of wine fills up the cup. Awesome! Redneck style is good. The wine is a bit bubbly and sweet, but is too warm. I should've refrigerated it more. 
I decide to put it back in the refrigerator when Smoke tells me to put it in the freezer instead.
Me: "The bottle or the glass?"
Him: "Both."
I go to put it in and it's hard to find a place amongst the Lean Cuisine's and Hot Pockets, but I manage. Score!
8:21: I take out the cup. It's a bit chilled and ready for drinking. I have to get my snarking on and it's time to kick it up a notch. A sign of a good wine is when you say things like, kick it up a notch.
8:35: Took the bottle out and poured some more. The colder it gets, the better it gets, but there's still a little aftertaste to it. Maybe I need a palate cleanser like a cake. Good thing I bought a Creme-filled Angel Cake! 
Oh yes. Much better! I'm supposed to be on my Facebook snark page but the internet hates me. Why??
The Big Bang Theory is funny on a regular day, but when you are buzzing, it's enough to make you pee your pants.
8:42: Texting Katie is a lot harder when you are starting to buzz.
8:46: Just took a couple selfie's while waiting for my internet to decide what it's going to do.
8:56: I finally got some snarking in but the buzz is quickly wearing off. Must drink faster! Just like all the fancy wine tasters do.
9:00: Still snarking but keep getting distracted by Jimmy Fallon's special. Already seen it but I can't get enough of Jimmy. that man is FINE.
10:29: I've almost drank all of the wine and I'm getting sleepy. I'm still snarking on the Facebook page, but I'm not sure if anybody is still out in Facebook land. I'm still yawning a bit.
I do have to say that this wine isn't quite as sweet as the other Villa Alena. And not as fizzy. But it's good!
11:02. I'm so sleepy but I don't want to go to sleep already. I want to keep snarking. I don't want to waste this wine buzz! I'm going to drink some more wine and find my second wind! Once in awhile I want trade my sleepiness with someone who has insomnia.
11:28: All I want to do is sleep, but I keep denying myself. Why?
Ok. My overall opinion is that it's sweet and smooth, but still has a bit of a bite. It wasn't as effervesant as the last wine I had, but I wouldn't say no to more.
I can't wait to try my next!
****
Overall I'd say that the wine was good, but not as good as the one before. On a Buzz scale, I'd give it 7 out of 10. I am happy to say that I didn't drink the entire bottle, but I came close!
Onto my next wine. If anyone knows a good Moscato, please recommend it! I'll put it on the list.
Until next time... Kick it up a notch!
Saturday, February 1, 2014
Love in an Elevator
Job Agencies Part III
It's a good thing I didn't go to more than three job agencies since I don't know Roman Numerals past three.
Yesterday I had an appointment with the local agency only 15 minutes away from my house so I didn't have to get ready as early. I did pick a different shirt and a different necklace this time. Mix it up a little!
The only part I worried about was parking. It's located in the old part of town, which means limited parking options. I haven't parallel parked since my driving test back in 1991. To say I'm rusty is an understatement. So I leave about 45 minutes early.
I'm there in 15 minutes, which also gets me to the office a half an hour early. That is way too early for me! But that's okay since I still need to find the office. First: Parking.
Even though parking is free, there are time limits. On the street it's an hour and on some side streets, 30 minutes. I'm already 30 minutes early and I have no idea how long it will take so I find a three hour parking lot and park there. Of course I still need to walk and find the place.
Luckily, it's a mild day (like 45 degrees...a heatwave!) so I'm not walking around the town freezing my ass off. I hold up my phone and use the "walking" option of my GPS. I follow where it tells me but I can't find it anywhere. I pass a fire station (where I'm paranoid the trucks are going to come screaming out, sirens flashing and run me over) and pass detentions centers, sheriff's offices and all kinds of fun places and then back to where my car is parked. Yikes. I've now walked in a circle. Great. I can even get lost walking!
I try again. I feel like the people smoking on the corner have already seen me once before and are now laughing at me. Where is Andy Griffith when you need him? I would even take Barney at this point. I look at my phone and start walking again. If I had a map, I could get in it, but I only have a phone and stepping on it might break it. I finally decide maybe I need to cross a road. Yes, now I'm thinking outside the box! Go me!
I cross the road and start paying attention to the addresses since my GPS swears I'm right there. There's just no signs with the agencies name on it. I finally find the correct street address but the only signs are for a credit counseling service and a campaign headquarters. Since I'm desperate at this point (yet still early), I open the door. It creaks open to this huge space that leads to a tall staircase and I realize it's an old historical building that was probably once a spacious townhouse, but is now offices. The suite number I need starts with a three, so I have to walk up three stories. In one day, I go from elevator's to old creaking staircases. The railings are short because apparently people used to be shorter and it takes getting used to.
After all the walking I did around town and after climbing up three sets of steps, I'm out of breath by the time I find the office. At least I got a workout in! The office is small, just the one desk and there's a lady sitting there. She stands up and introduces herself then closes the door, putting a "do not disturb" sign on it.
We exchange small talk--I amuse her with stories of how lost I got (always good times), and then she hands me a folder of paperwork to fill out. She goes back to her desk and I tackle the application. I can't help but think of my last two interviews. The first one had everything on a computer and the second had me fill out an application at home and didn't even take it. This one is all by hand, which is fine, because the office is quiet and cozy and l feel less stress than I did at any of the other places.
Finally the paperwork is done and she comes over to my table and starts talking. It's a full fledged interview, where she asks my strengths and weaknesses, although she doesn't ask me where I see myself in five years, because that's always a hard question for me. I don't see myself past 2:00 this afternoon! (Other than wine. I will be drinking wine!)
After the initial interview is over, she starts talking to me about job options. She's honest about the limited opportunities in this small town. Too many people wanting to work locally and not enough jobs to go around. I knew that walking in so I'm not discouraged. Then she starts giving me job hunting advice. She'd been out of work for three months before her current job and knows what it's like.
It's weird because I suddenly feel like she really sees me as a person and not just a potential employee. She sees a person who got laid off from a job and feels a little insecure and down. Her advice is so good, I start writing it down because even though some of it I'd read about, it was different hearing it from someone who had actual experience. Her sympathy makes me feel emotional for the first time since starting this tour of agencies. Maybe it's part of her job, but I don't think so. Her job is to place me for her clients and not to help me find a job with another company.
She had one opening to run by me but immediately I know it's not for me. The first four lines dealt with talking to people on the phone and selling them stuff and telephones are my kryptonite. You know how they say that when looking at a food label the first three ingredients shows what the product contains the most of? It's true of jobs too. The first three or four things are what you'll be doing the most. I tell her I will consider it because I can't say no, but even if I could, I do like to think about things first anyway. I'm a thinker. I like to pose like the thinker too.
As I'm leaving she tells me there's an elevator I can use, but honestly, I'm kind of scared the elevator is almost as old as the building. Once a week on an elevator is enough! I think Aerosmith exaggerated the appeal of elevators.
As I make my way down the steps, there are women taking a tour and for the first time I see there are plaques on the wall showing the history of the building. I wish I can stop and read them but the ladies are there and I don't feel like talking anymore. I can only talk so many hours a day. I'm tired. (See! This is why a sales job would never work for me).
On the way home I consider just interviewing with that job anyway, but decide not to. I've done telephone work a few times in my 20's, and I never got comfortable with it, no matter how long I tried it. I don't think that's changed in my late 30's. (Shut up! I know I'll be 40 in 13 days, but I'm stretching out my late 30's as long as I can!)
I email her thanking her for talking to me and letting her know how much I enjoyed meeting her and how I didn't think I would represent them very well if I interviewed for that job. She thanked me for getting back to her and said she'd consider me for other opportunities.
After all I went though this week, I still don't have a job. But all hope is not lost! I did get an email from another company (not an employment agency) altogether. They asked me to send them my resume to be considered for a temporary position. The location really sucks though. It's not the worse place I could work like DC or in an elevator, but it's up there. I'm going to pursue it anyway because the job sounds kind of cool and it's temporary so I'll be able to take other positions if they come up.
That's my employment agency experiences this week. I hope you learned something. Like Melly has a really weird phobia about elevators. And shares way too any details.
Until next time!
It's a good thing I didn't go to more than three job agencies since I don't know Roman Numerals past three.
Yesterday I had an appointment with the local agency only 15 minutes away from my house so I didn't have to get ready as early. I did pick a different shirt and a different necklace this time. Mix it up a little!
The only part I worried about was parking. It's located in the old part of town, which means limited parking options. I haven't parallel parked since my driving test back in 1991. To say I'm rusty is an understatement. So I leave about 45 minutes early.
I'm there in 15 minutes, which also gets me to the office a half an hour early. That is way too early for me! But that's okay since I still need to find the office. First: Parking.
Even though parking is free, there are time limits. On the street it's an hour and on some side streets, 30 minutes. I'm already 30 minutes early and I have no idea how long it will take so I find a three hour parking lot and park there. Of course I still need to walk and find the place.
Luckily, it's a mild day (like 45 degrees...a heatwave!) so I'm not walking around the town freezing my ass off. I hold up my phone and use the "walking" option of my GPS. I follow where it tells me but I can't find it anywhere. I pass a fire station (where I'm paranoid the trucks are going to come screaming out, sirens flashing and run me over) and pass detentions centers, sheriff's offices and all kinds of fun places and then back to where my car is parked. Yikes. I've now walked in a circle. Great. I can even get lost walking!
I try again. I feel like the people smoking on the corner have already seen me once before and are now laughing at me. Where is Andy Griffith when you need him? I would even take Barney at this point. I look at my phone and start walking again. If I had a map, I could get in it, but I only have a phone and stepping on it might break it. I finally decide maybe I need to cross a road. Yes, now I'm thinking outside the box! Go me!
I cross the road and start paying attention to the addresses since my GPS swears I'm right there. There's just no signs with the agencies name on it. I finally find the correct street address but the only signs are for a credit counseling service and a campaign headquarters. Since I'm desperate at this point (yet still early), I open the door. It creaks open to this huge space that leads to a tall staircase and I realize it's an old historical building that was probably once a spacious townhouse, but is now offices. The suite number I need starts with a three, so I have to walk up three stories. In one day, I go from elevator's to old creaking staircases. The railings are short because apparently people used to be shorter and it takes getting used to.
After all the walking I did around town and after climbing up three sets of steps, I'm out of breath by the time I find the office. At least I got a workout in! The office is small, just the one desk and there's a lady sitting there. She stands up and introduces herself then closes the door, putting a "do not disturb" sign on it.
We exchange small talk--I amuse her with stories of how lost I got (always good times), and then she hands me a folder of paperwork to fill out. She goes back to her desk and I tackle the application. I can't help but think of my last two interviews. The first one had everything on a computer and the second had me fill out an application at home and didn't even take it. This one is all by hand, which is fine, because the office is quiet and cozy and l feel less stress than I did at any of the other places.
Finally the paperwork is done and she comes over to my table and starts talking. It's a full fledged interview, where she asks my strengths and weaknesses, although she doesn't ask me where I see myself in five years, because that's always a hard question for me. I don't see myself past 2:00 this afternoon! (Other than wine. I will be drinking wine!)
After the initial interview is over, she starts talking to me about job options. She's honest about the limited opportunities in this small town. Too many people wanting to work locally and not enough jobs to go around. I knew that walking in so I'm not discouraged. Then she starts giving me job hunting advice. She'd been out of work for three months before her current job and knows what it's like.
It's weird because I suddenly feel like she really sees me as a person and not just a potential employee. She sees a person who got laid off from a job and feels a little insecure and down. Her advice is so good, I start writing it down because even though some of it I'd read about, it was different hearing it from someone who had actual experience. Her sympathy makes me feel emotional for the first time since starting this tour of agencies. Maybe it's part of her job, but I don't think so. Her job is to place me for her clients and not to help me find a job with another company.
She had one opening to run by me but immediately I know it's not for me. The first four lines dealt with talking to people on the phone and selling them stuff and telephones are my kryptonite. You know how they say that when looking at a food label the first three ingredients shows what the product contains the most of? It's true of jobs too. The first three or four things are what you'll be doing the most. I tell her I will consider it because I can't say no, but even if I could, I do like to think about things first anyway. I'm a thinker. I like to pose like the thinker too.
As I'm leaving she tells me there's an elevator I can use, but honestly, I'm kind of scared the elevator is almost as old as the building. Once a week on an elevator is enough! I think Aerosmith exaggerated the appeal of elevators.
As I make my way down the steps, there are women taking a tour and for the first time I see there are plaques on the wall showing the history of the building. I wish I can stop and read them but the ladies are there and I don't feel like talking anymore. I can only talk so many hours a day. I'm tired. (See! This is why a sales job would never work for me).
On the way home I consider just interviewing with that job anyway, but decide not to. I've done telephone work a few times in my 20's, and I never got comfortable with it, no matter how long I tried it. I don't think that's changed in my late 30's. (Shut up! I know I'll be 40 in 13 days, but I'm stretching out my late 30's as long as I can!)
I email her thanking her for talking to me and letting her know how much I enjoyed meeting her and how I didn't think I would represent them very well if I interviewed for that job. She thanked me for getting back to her and said she'd consider me for other opportunities.
After all I went though this week, I still don't have a job. But all hope is not lost! I did get an email from another company (not an employment agency) altogether. They asked me to send them my resume to be considered for a temporary position. The location really sucks though. It's not the worse place I could work like DC or in an elevator, but it's up there. I'm going to pursue it anyway because the job sounds kind of cool and it's temporary so I'll be able to take other positions if they come up.
That's my employment agency experiences this week. I hope you learned something. Like Melly has a really weird phobia about elevators. And shares way too any details.
Until next time!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)