Thursday, November 15, 2007

Pride & (job) Prejudice

Time is such a strange thing, especially when you're unemployed. Regular schedules don't really mean anything, when you have nothing you absolutely have to do, nowhere you have to be. Sure, I want to email and fax resumes at a nice early hour so I look industrious. But it doesn't matter if I do it at 8, 9, or 10am; no one is making me punch a clock when I hit "Send" or tracking what time I go off to Kin.kos.

Some days I start off at 8am, while others start at 10am. Some nights I go to bed at a "nice girl" time of midnight, while others I might be up until 4am. If it weren't for the five TV shows I'm addicted to (Scrubs, Family Guy, The Simpsons, Heroes, & My Name is Chuck), I might not pay much attention to time at all.

I guess it's really the whole feeling like an aimless loser that gets to me. It was different when I was younger. Back then, I wasn't worried about bills, because as long as I had 1,286 roommates, my expenses weren't that high. I mean, I could get by on $10,000/year back then. Ahhh, the memories of youthful ignorance!

Now, though, I've gotten used to being the provider. My mum and I both carry our own weight, but I'm used to being the one who brings home the bacon; now, I'm only bringing generic Bac-O-Bits. So not only my bank account is suffering, but also my pride.

And my pride is the very thing I'm going to have to ditch by the roadside. I'm going to have to stop being so choosy about what I apply for, and just get a job. Period. It's just so hard, to know that I have the education, skills and experience for a really good job... but that I'm going to have to settle for a crappy job. Maybe even a (gasp!) retail job, which I'd sworn I'd never do again, once I made it past the youthful mall-job days. Don't get me wrong: I don't think there's anything wrong with working in a shop. It's just that I did it for a long time way back when, and it was something I never regretting leaving. I can't believe that I might have to consider retail as an option to replenishing my bank account.

God, being a grown-up sucks sometimes.

3 comments:

Me said...

I'm sorry. I wish I could do something to help you. However, your land of chitlin's I fear is a wee bit south of myself. If there IS anything I can do please don't hestitate to email me at Yahoo under this same name. I'm quite certain you are bright and industrious and I would like to see you find something fulfilling... though these days I, myself, utterly ignore everything but the bare minimum of my job responsibilities to enable myself time to surf the web for fertility literature - so I am not even sure that "fulfilling" even exists any more - or mabye it's just that I've drunk too much Vodka tonight?

OK now I KNOW I've said too much. I should quite while I'm ahead - or at least not too far behind.

Hugs Kim.

battynurse said...

I hope the job search goes in the direction you want. I don't blame you, I wouldn't ever want to go back to working retail or god forbid, restaurants.

Anonymous said...

I'm with ya, Kim. I'm looking down the barrel of the same awful retail fate. And it's a loaded double barrel. First, I should never have to resort to retail at my age. And, second, I'm going to have to leave my DH, DD, and beautiful baby boy to fend for themselves on nights and weekends just so I can bring in a bit of cash to keep us afloat. Aaaaaaargh!

Big hugs to you, Kim.

Adrienne