Thursday - One Week Anniversary
Feb. 22nd, 2007 02:07 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ninanevermoreToday is the first week anniversary of my last real drive into work. This morning I only drove to the daycare and to the coffee shop, but then returned home. It's a funny thing to get used to, not having to be anywhere or see anyone one on any given day. My son is still in daycare through next week, and then I'll see about putting him on a part-time basis. I can't work on a résumé or get anything done with a 2 year old in the house.
He suspects something is up, though. Suddenly, he clings to me when I drop him off at school and cries when I leave. His teacher says he calls out for me during the day more than he ever did before. He knows that I am ditching him. I feel like a jerk.
On Monday, while sitting in my favorite coffee shop, I wrote in my paper journal:
The week has been productive. I have done all of these things except organize my house, my kitchen, get a bladder infection and get depressed. I'm weirdly calm about the whole thing. I needed a vacation, anyway, and this just happens to be one that isn't as much fun as Disneyworld, but at least I get to sleep later than I did a week ago. The bladder infection is only a matter of time, though. I tend to drink way too much caffeine when I have time on my hands, and never to any pleasant end. If I can keep my consumption below 8 twelve-once cans of soda or cups of coffee a day, I should be able to spare myself some misery. However, because of an appalling lack of self control and an extreme addiction to liquid stimulation, the odds are not in my favor.
The only hits I've gotten on my résumé on line so far have been sales positions. If you post a résumé on Monster.com, the companies who sell financial services will send you an email telling you how great they think you would be for their sales teams. In my case, they are wrong. A person either has the personality to be a sales person, or they don't.
I don't.
Sure, I could tell you about a product that I'd like you to buy from me. But when you say that you don't want it, or you don't need it, or that you don't find it interesting, I will say no problem and then walk away. This is not what a sales person does. A sales person would proceed to tell you why you do need it, why you should want it, and how it's very interesting. I'm just not obnoxious enough for the task. If I tried to make a living selling for a commission, I would starve to death.
But everything is going swell. I got my letter from the unemployment office saying my claim is being processed, so I won't have to resort to eating Ramon noodles any time soon. I get to spend time at the coffee shop writing and mulling and thinking for an hour or so each day if it suits me. I bought a new interview suit with my last real paycheck that looks very serious and spiffy on me, and doesn't make me look at all like a person who has been at a job that let me wear blue jeans to the office every day because no one really saw me, anyway, and no upper management was left to care about the niceties of office apparel.
I have to admit, I clean up good.
The trick will be to hide the fact during any interviews that I would rather be wearing blue jeans, not sitting like a lady, and making smart-ass wisecracks about the world around me, including the person conducting the interview. I think I can fake it just long enough to be considered. After all, I've done it before. And somewhere down the road, I'll probably have to do it again.
* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * # * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *
He suspects something is up, though. Suddenly, he clings to me when I drop him off at school and cries when I leave. His teacher says he calls out for me during the day more than he ever did before. He knows that I am ditching him. I feel like a jerk.
On Monday, while sitting in my favorite coffee shop, I wrote in my paper journal:
So what now?
My immediate goals are:
1) File for unemployment
2) Find old résumé on Monster.com and update it
3) Do laundry (out of blue jeans, wearing pair with hole in the leg, draft is annoying)
4) Drink enough diet Coke to trigger major bladder infection
5) Sulk
6) Organize crap in my god-awful house
7) Mull over small pointless details of my life (don't forget missed opportunities)
8) Search Internet job sites
9) Send out freshly updated résumé
10) Brood
11) Organize kitchen (hey, I'm home, why not)
12) Do more laundry
13) Get depressed
14) Check to see how soon I will run out of money
15) Brood some more
The week has been productive. I have done all of these things except organize my house, my kitchen, get a bladder infection and get depressed. I'm weirdly calm about the whole thing. I needed a vacation, anyway, and this just happens to be one that isn't as much fun as Disneyworld, but at least I get to sleep later than I did a week ago. The bladder infection is only a matter of time, though. I tend to drink way too much caffeine when I have time on my hands, and never to any pleasant end. If I can keep my consumption below 8 twelve-once cans of soda or cups of coffee a day, I should be able to spare myself some misery. However, because of an appalling lack of self control and an extreme addiction to liquid stimulation, the odds are not in my favor.
The only hits I've gotten on my résumé on line so far have been sales positions. If you post a résumé on Monster.com, the companies who sell financial services will send you an email telling you how great they think you would be for their sales teams. In my case, they are wrong. A person either has the personality to be a sales person, or they don't.
I don't.
Sure, I could tell you about a product that I'd like you to buy from me. But when you say that you don't want it, or you don't need it, or that you don't find it interesting, I will say no problem and then walk away. This is not what a sales person does. A sales person would proceed to tell you why you do need it, why you should want it, and how it's very interesting. I'm just not obnoxious enough for the task. If I tried to make a living selling for a commission, I would starve to death.
But everything is going swell. I got my letter from the unemployment office saying my claim is being processed, so I won't have to resort to eating Ramon noodles any time soon. I get to spend time at the coffee shop writing and mulling and thinking for an hour or so each day if it suits me. I bought a new interview suit with my last real paycheck that looks very serious and spiffy on me, and doesn't make me look at all like a person who has been at a job that let me wear blue jeans to the office every day because no one really saw me, anyway, and no upper management was left to care about the niceties of office apparel.
I have to admit, I clean up good.
The trick will be to hide the fact during any interviews that I would rather be wearing blue jeans, not sitting like a lady, and making smart-ass wisecracks about the world around me, including the person conducting the interview. I think I can fake it just long enough to be considered. After all, I've done it before. And somewhere down the road, I'll probably have to do it again.
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no subject
Date: 2007-02-23 01:15 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-23 06:32 pm (UTC)