Thursday, March 17, 2011


This whole not working thing is a royal pain in the ass.

The first week was stellar, almost vacation like. Well, it WAS vacation like since it was school vacation week and I got to hang out with my little buddy.

Now, it's just getting old. It's been almost a month since I got laid off and I am ready to start pulling my hair out.

I log on to Monster and Career Builder every day and apply apply apply. Call staffing companies to professionally pimp myself essentially. Rinse and repeat.

The whole novelty of not getting up early hasn't happened, with well kids and all. The Boy has been working a little extra so to help out his poor mom I have been playing house here and there.

I am not cut out for this whole stay-at-home mom thing (no offense to those of you who actually enjoy it). There is only so much cooking and cleaning and watching daytime TV a person can stand before she wants to stick her head in the oven. (ok so that's a bit of an exaggeration but you get my drift)

I miss work. I miss getting up and dressed like a grown up and driving alone to the office. Listening to what I want on full blast, sipping away at my coffee (Iced with cream and Splenda...even when it's -2 outside). I even sort of miss my old Boston commute in a weird and nostalgic way.

I felt purposeful when I had something to do. When I had each hour of my day actually earning money.

But today is Saint Patrick's Day so I am hoping that the luck of the Irish can make the phone ring. That all the green shamrock's I am wearing will somehow bring some positive JuJu my way and I will get a call to go back to work in some capacity.

Not that I automatically assimilate the wearing o' the green to hold some sort of mystical powers or anything, but perhaps the Powers that Be will be a little punch drunk on green beer and Guinness and let their uppity guards down enough to grant me a little clemency.

So Erin-Go-Bra-less.....a girl can dream can't she?

Sunday, March 6, 2011

Witness Protection on My Resume?

I haven't been hiding under a rock, or whisked away into Witness Protection by the Feds for having intel on some sort of Maffioso Crime Lord.


My absence has pretty much been because 2 weeks ago, I lost my job. Got the old pink slip, laid off once again.

It was like any other day I thought really, day after a Monday holiday, after having the flu. Walked in and couldn't log in to one of my computer systems. Weird.

I asked the office skank, I mean other woman in my office if she was having issues. Nope, she told me I should talk to the manager.

Well, the guys all started ot make their ways out on the road to various jobs and a silence started over the office, as it had every other day. Then the ominous bellow from the Manager.

I walked into the Owner's office to be sat at the conference table by both the Owner and Manager. Sat down and told they company was no longer able to afford my position. That they felt terrible but nmy position would no longer exist after that day. I would be paid for the week and I basically had to clear out my desk and peace out.

What. The. Fuck.


So now, I am on the hunt again. Back on the job market.

The first couple of days, well actually that entire week, I basically hid in my house. I cried out of frustration and out of sheer dumbfoundedness and then tried to snap out of it. I hung out with my Booger and laid low.

I did all those technical things you should do when you're jobless. I updated my resume, I called a couple of staffing agencies. I called Unemployment and I filed for State Medical benefits.

Now the waiting game. The applications, the whole interview process. Putting my best corporate foot forward and trying to walk right into a good job. A job I thought I had.

I mean, it wasn't my dream job, but it was a job nonetheless. It paid the bills. Sort of. I mean sure it was less money than I made in the big city for Gillette (now THAT had been a dream job) and the benefits were crappy and cost me an arm and a leg, but it was income.

The whole process is agonizing. Showing up all dressed up, smiles and professionalism. Holding on to copies of my elusive resume, hoping I answer their questions adequately. Hoping when I shake their hands as I meet and greet than some sort of impression is made. That I am the candidate who stands out, who will get the job.

Then that nerve-wracking waiting game. A day, a week, a month. You don't want to seem eager so you don't want to call them. You send them a note perhaps, a brief email thanking them for their time, for the opportunity to learn about their company. Blah Blah Blah.

I am good in an interview. Been told that before. It's just the whole daunting process.

I'm no spring chicken. I'm not a fresh out of college kid who can be more easily stuffed into certain corporate molds. I don't still live with my parents or have a bevy of roomates so taking that entry level pay isn't an option for me. I need to make money. Fairly decent money to support my kid, my life.

Cross your fingers folks, it's going to be a bumpy few months.
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