Panic Time

I didn't get the job that I've been waiting three months to hear back from. Frankly, I'm stunned, and I don't mean to sound conceited when I say that. This position was an administrative assistant position in a field in which I have my Master's Degree, in an industry that I have worked in for almost twenty years. Now I'm screwed. My unemployment is due to run out in a few weeks, and although I've applied for over 30 jobs in the past few months, I've only been asked in for two interviews. I'm beginning to think I'm cursed. So many cover letters, so little interest in me. It's gotten to the point where I've started applying for part-time work, just to start working again. I just don't understand the lack of responses. Either I apply for a job in my field or a related field, only to be told it went to someone with more experience, or I apply for admin jobs that I don't hear back from because (I suspect) they think I'm overqualified. Last year I settled for a retail job at a tea shop and it was a nightmare. The pay was low, there was no health insurance, and the owner was a total nightmare. It's gotten to the point where I'm reconsidering whether I should stay on Boston's North Shore. And no, I can't seem to get a job in Boston, either, despite the numerous institutions there that are related to the industry in which I worked. Perhaps I should just apply for jobs in my field anywhere I see them and then move there. The only problem is that we just renewed our lease this month, so I'm stuck here for another year. I could apply for a job elsewhere and have a long commute, provided it's still in-state, but that might not be practical. I really love living in Salem but it seems I just can't get a job here. I never had such difficulties with getting jobs (and keeping them) in New York.

Perseverance, prayer, positive thinking, and witchy spells (courtesy of Salem's many witch shops - I'll accept help from all denominations) all didn't help, so I don't know what to do next. I've tried personnel and temp agencies in the past, but frankly, they suck, and the ones that hired me four years ago when I first moved to Massachusetts never called me with any jobs. I'll just have to keep looking. Maybe this is a sign to switch careers, to stop looking in this particular field and industry and do something entirely different. A more optimistic person could look at this as a good thing, a chance to start over. But I've always leaned towards the "glass is half-empty" school of thought. Sure, I could do something different, but what? Maybe I could go back to school, take one of those one-year certificate courses, or sign up for those programs I see on T.V. ("A rewarding beauty career awaits you at Blaine Technical School."). I can't help but feel like I'm at a very low point in my life. No job, no prospects, no money.

Unemployed in Summertime

I've just discovered Emiliana Torrini, a British electronica/low-fi recording artist. She's sort of a cross between Bjork and Ivy. My sister recommended her 1999 album "Love in the Time of Science" because one song, "Unemployed in Summertime," applies to my current situation. I still don't have a job, but for the past three months I've been waiting to hear back about a job to which I applied way back in May. It's basically my dream job - an opening in my field of study, in a creative environment very much like most of my previous jobs. After moving to Massachusetts, I couldn't get a job in that field, so I settled for a couple of jobs that, in retrospect, were a mistake. But for some reason I couldn't get an interview for the more creative jobs to which I applied. This time, I applied in late May, interviewed in early June, and was told the job would start in early July. Then the job's start date was pushed back to late July or early August. Just when I started to lose hope, I was called for a second interview. I felt it went well, but was told I'd hear back from them in three weeks. Which means, if I even get the job, it won't start until late August. I feel like this job could help me get back on track, not so much career-wise, but life-wise. I'd be in a job that makes me happy in a field in which I know a lot about, and thus, would feel like I'd be making more of a contribution to the position, instead of taking another job that would turn out to be another setback in my life. Then I'd feel like I was actually being a productive member of society. Maybe these three months of anxiety will pay off in the end. I'll just have to keep my fingers crossed.

In the meantime, I can take solace in Emiliana Torrini's song - a breezy homage to that period of time when you just get out of school, before you've found your first job, and the trials and tribulations of the working world haven't yet made you hardened, bitter, and pessimistic. And, as Emiliana reassures us,"It'll be okay."

Riding On My Bike

It's been two months since I lost my job and l am still unemployed. But I haven't been sitting around my apartment watching soap operas and game shows all day. Last month I bought a bicycle (thank you George Bush and your economic stimulus check!). I had thought about buying one last year because I need a form of exercise and I hate jogging or going to the gym, but alas, I never did. This year, however, I was motivated to get a bike for two reasons: exercise, and transportation (which, come to think of it, are the only two reasons to have a bike in the first place). I bought it for exercise because, in the past year and a half, I've been unemployed twice and had a job in between those bouts of unemployment that made me miserable, all of which resulted in my regaining 30 of the 50 pounds that I had lost in 2006. So technically, I am overweight, again. And I needed transportation because my mother sold her house in another state and bought a house here in Salem. It's about a 5-minute drive from where I live, but since I don't have a car, I walked to her house, which took 30 minutes. So I bought a bike. Now it takes me 15 minutes to get to my mother's house.

The last time I rode a bike, Jimmy Carter was President, gas was less than a dollar a gallon, and the Solid Gold Dancers were entertaining America with their carefully choreographed yet erotically charged disco dance moves. In other words, a long time ago. But you know what they say - you never forget how to ride a bike. And it's true. When I took that baby out for a test ride at the bike shop, it felt really good to be zipping around on a bike again.

I've had it for about a month now. Of course I had to trick it out. I bought a bell (to warn people to get the hell out of my way - nicely, of course); a rear-view mirror, to see if any cars are coming up behind me; and a wicker basket, to take home the occasional cans of Diet Coke or roll of toilet paper that my mom gives me when I visit her (I am unemployed, remember, and sometimes you just run out of the necessities, ya know?). I also have a water bottle-holder, but as yet no water bottle, though a bottle of Dosani or a can of Arizona Diet Green Ginseng tea fits perfectly in it. I decided against handlebar streamers a la Pee Wee Herman. And do you know that when you buy a bike today, the kickstand costs extra? Apparently, kickstands no longer come with the bike, like they did back in the day when I was a kid. You have to pay extra for them! Sure, it was only $8, but it's the principle. Of course people need kickstands, so of course if you charge extra for them, people will buy them. Another thing that's changed since I had my last bike is that bikes now have front and back gears. My three-speed bike actually has seven gears in the back wheel, and three in front. So going up a hill now requires both hands to shift gears. And the right hand brake is for the back wheel only, while the left hand brake is for the front. Bicycles sure are more technologically advanced since my old-school Schwinn, that's for sure.

Anyway, I'm really loving my bike. At first I was really tentative about where I rode it. There's a condo complex down the street from me that forms a U-bend, so I rode my bike around that several times. Last week I got adventurous. I had to go to the bank, which is on the same street where I live. Mind you, I live on a busy street - full of traffic, shopping centers, and schools. But there is a generous bus lane that gives me ample room to ride my bike in. So I bit the bullet and braved the traffic to get to the bank. Once there, I realized there's a residential side street across from my bank that takes me into downtown Salem with little traffic, so I took that route to get to town. I always wanted to ride my bike around Salem Common. It's one of my favorite walking places in Salem, and I always envied the people who rode their bikes around it. So after making it to the Commons and riding around in a circle about ten times, I realized that The Willows, Salem's beach-side boardwalk and amusement center (it's very small) was practically a straight shoot from the Commons. So on I rode, again riding in the bus lane specifically designed for the tour buses that park and let tourists off at the Willows. I relaxed at the Willows, ate a hamburger at the burger joint that used to be an old carousel, and got a wicked sunburn. But I was so proud of myself for making it down to the Willows on my own. There's no public transportation to the Willows, and I always hated the fact that I had to rely on my sister to drive us there in her car. Now I can get there on my own. And I'd better make the most of my summer unemployment time while I still can. With my luck, I'll land a job soon and my free-wheeling days could soon come to an end.

Unemployed Again, Naturally

I got laid off from my job at the tea shop. This past Friday was my last day. So for the second time in 14 months I find myself back at the unemployment office. While waiting my turn to file my claim today, I was treated to free entertainment in the form of a white trash guy (a chav, to use British terminology) on his cell phone - while sitting right next to the sign that read "For the consideration of others, please turn off your cell phone." He was putting the heat on some guy who owed his girlfriend forty bucks, using ominous yet vague threats like "If you don't pay her then I'll do what I have to do." Then he called some girl that he apparently had been involved with eleven years ago, who was accusing him of popping pills in front of his daughter (an allegation that this young man insisted was unfounded). And he wasn't at all embarrassed at the fact that everyone in the waiting room was now privvy to his personal life.

I wasn't too upset at being laid off again. This time it was due to the economy. The tea shop has been losing money for the past three months because no one is coming in to buy overpriced gourmet tea during the present housing crisis and impending recession. So the owner decided to restructure the staff, and chose to eliminate the only full-time employee (me). But far from being angry, I'm actually relieved. The owner was a nightmare - an impatient, passive-aggressive, anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive pathological liar with an anger management problem. She scheduled me for several ten-hour days a week (with only one half-hour break) so that my actual work week was between 43 and 45 hours, yet as a salaried employee I was only paid for 40 hours. None of the hourly employees worked a full 8-hour day. They only worked 6-hour days, so basically I was making up their two extra hours at no additional cost to her. Everyone who works for her dislikes her. So upon being laid off I feel like a prisoner who was paroled early. Some highlights during the past eight-and-a-half months:

1. The Amex Incident: The owner forgot to put a stamp on the envelope when she mailed the check to pay her American Express bill one month. Not surprisingly, the envelope with the check came back to her, thus making her payment for that month late. When I gave her mail to her that day she plucked out the envelope, waved it in front of my face and said "When you see this, you put a stamp on it and put it back in the mail. Now the payment is late!" Typical: she avoids accountability for her own actions. For every mistake she makes (and we all make mistakes), she'll either lie to avoid admitting it, or she'll turn on those around her, as in this case, genuinely convinced that someone else was at fault.
2. The Phone Incident: She was in the middle of carrying some items out to her car to take over to her business partner when the partner called. When I gave her the phone, she barked "Stay here!" I assumed she wanted me to wait because she needed my help with moving things to her car. So I stood there awkwardly while she chewed out her business partner for calling her while she was on her way out of the store - to go see her business partner! Typical: this woman loses her temper at the drop of a hat, over insignificant things. She spoke to her partner the way she talks to all of her staff - like we're idiots wasting her time. So when she finished the conversation, she threw the telephone down on one of the tables and stormed out the door like an immature child. If there were any customers in the shop at the time, or if she had done that in someone else's establishment, people would wonder what the hell was wrong with that woman. When I asked if she needed help carrying things out to her car she said no. The reason why she made me wait for her to get off of the phone was so that I could take the phone from her and put it back in its base (something she does all the time -she never hangs up the phone. She hands it off to someone else to put back for her, like we're her handservants). Yet she didn't even have the common courtesy to hand the phone to me. She threw it down on the table, leaving me to pick it up and put back for her like I was her lackey.
3. The Baby Incident: She doesn't like children. It's obvious, judging by her reaction whenever children came in with their parents. But when this one young mother came in with her baby, the owner was being really sweet with the child. "I looked just like you when I was your age," she told the baby, who couldn't have been more than a year-and-a-half. It surprised me how good she was with the baby, until the mother and child left without buying anything more than a cup of tea and a pastry. Then it all made sense. The owner turned to me and said "Usually the way to their hearts, and their wallets, is through their kids." (I should have known). She said it in all seriousness, and I detected a sick sense of pride, as if she was imparting her years of retail wisdom to me, so that I can follow her example. What little respect I had left for her went out the window that day.

When I was first hired, I thought the job would be a nice, relaxing change from the fast pace of the corporate environment. But the owner put sales pressure on her staff to sell more of the merchandise, claiming "I don't make money selling tea." If I wanted to harangue customers and resort to high-pressure sales tactics I would have gotten a job at the mall. But the hypocrisy behind the shop's mission was that she would tell customers "We're more than just a gathering place. We're an institution, where people can come to get healthy mentally, physically, spiritually." Yet she was anything but. It was a retail establishment disguised as an oasis of relaxation. And ironically, the owner stressed out her staff and had everyone walking around on eggshells. During the 8 months I was there, we went through 6 employees. Three successive employees quit after only three days, including one kid who took his fifteen-minute break and never came back! The owner never had any real respect for any of her staff. We were all underpaid and overworked, with no health insurance. And judging by her behavior, I seriously suspect she has a personality disorder. She's a liability rather than an asset to her shop. While she may be a good business woman, she has no business managing people.

I know there is a world out there beyond the tea shop - one that is reasonably more well-adjusted, respectful, and with benefits. At least I can sleep at night knowing I remained true to myself. I got along well with the people I worked with and I can say that they genuinely liked me. I also take pride in the fact that I truly assisted customers without resorting to exaggerations, untruths, or tactics to try to make a sale. It's too bad the owner values dollars and cents above customer satisfaction. But she'll never change. And I don't think the shop will make it to Christmas this year. As for me, I started this blog last year to give me something to do while I was unemployed, so perhaps this means I'll be able to start blogging more again.

Doctor Woo-Hoo!

Tomorrow night is the much anticipated (by me, anyway) American television premiere of the third season of Dr. Who. I must stress that I am not usually a Dr. Who fan, but ever since they brought it back, and especially when David Tennant took over the role from Christopher Eccleston, I have become addicted. But I bet Dr. Who has many new fans of the female persuasion because of David Tennant. Of course, the entire third season has already been shown in Britain, which means that I sort of know what happens in the end because I've been reading blogs of British fans like Project 76 and Struggling Author. But that's okay. As long as I get to watch David Tennant for an hour, I'm happy.

Tomorrow's debut is a double feature. It starts with last year's Christmas special, The Runaway Bride. I haven't even seen it yet and recent Dr. Who news in Britain is already revealing that this year's Christmas special's guest star is Kylie Minogue. Will Kylie and the Doctor fall in love? She should be so lucky, lucky, lucky, lucky.... But I can't wait to see The Runaway Bride. I've been waiting since last Christmas, when I followed the official Dr. Who BBC website and downloaded photos of the dishy doctor and comedienne Catherine Tate. It's nice to see a (fellow) big-boned, redheaded woman as the Doctor's companion, albeit temporary. The double feature continues with the first proper episode of the season, "Smith and Jones," where the Doctor meets his newest companion, Martha Jones. Martha looks cooler than the Doctor's previous companion, Rose Tyler. Not that I didn't like Rose, Martha just looks like she could kick more ass.

It will be nice to have this distraction tomorrow night, as I have a job interview tomorrow afternoon, and I'll need something to relax and unwind to in the evening. I've got an interview for the manager position of the local tea shop in town. I love going there as a customer, and it would be like a little bit of heaven to have a short commute to a job I genuinely enjoy. So fingers crossed.

Hmm, Dr. Who and Tea, two uniquely British things. Maybe these two worlds colliding on the same day could be a good omen of a successful interview?

Breakin' The Law

As of this past Saturday, I am in violation of the newly enacted state law that requires all residents of Massachusetts to have health insurance. I had insurance when I was working, but now that I'm unemployed I can't afford it. I am entitled to continue my health insurance through my former employer through COBRA, but the payments would be $300 a month. And I just can't swing that on unemployment, as having health insurance would mean that I would be $300 short for rent each month. Let's see, which do I choose: health insurance or rent? Sorry, rent wins. Rent always wins. But if I don't purchase health insurance I'll have to pay a penalty in my 2008 state income taxes.

The growing costs of health care has always been a problem in America. While many industrialized nations offer nationalized health care to its citizens, the American government has always been wary of it because they feel it smacks of socialism, which in their eyes is one step away from Communism. (It's for this reason that our railways aren't nationalized either, and thus why Amtrak is always in financial crisis). And these nations with nationalized health care do tax their citizens to cover the cost. But I feel for a state to require all residents to have health insurance is penalizing many innocent people for the trangressions of a few who abuse the system. There are a lot of people who can't afford even low-cost health insurance, or people like me who are unemployed. And today I've started seeing commercials for new companies that are popping up, offering "affordable" health insurance in the same way that companies like Geicko or Amica offer low-cost car insurance. They seem kind of suspect to me. It's as if this new law is opening the door to many fly-by-night companies. All they need now is a humorous spokesperson or anthropomorphized mascot in a witty 30-second commercial. Maybe if the Ditech.com cavemen aren't busy they could break a leg or get into a car accident and appear in a health insurance ad. But do I really want to put my health in the hands of these people?

This new law doesn't do anything to try to reform the health care industry. I'm skeptical that it will lead to the establishment of new companies that really do offer quality affordable health insurance. This law protects the health care industry, at least in Massachusetts, by making sure that it doesn't lose money. I know it's a problem for them, but the skyrocketing costs of healthcare, and the overwhelming costs that can accrue if someone is sick or in an accident, can literally bankrupt people. My mother is in tears on an almost daily basis because, as a retired widow on a fixed income, she is overwhelmed by bills for her breast cancer treatments, including biopsies, a life-saving lumpectomy, and radiation treatments. Medicare only pays a small portion, and doesn't cover the cost of the radiation pills she'll have to take for the next three to five years. In fact, Medicare doesn't cover the cost of prescription medications, and many elderly people take multiple prescription medications.

Coincidentally, Michael Moore's new documentary "Sicko" opened in limited release this weekend. It deals with this very issue of unaffordable health care for Americans. Being in my current predicament, I would normally applaud this effort, but I don't like Michael Moore. His documentaries are always one-sided, and it appears that he manipulates them through what he chooses to show or, conversely, not to show, in order to sway the viewer to accept his subjective viewpoint as fact. In fact, I saw an interview with him on CNN today, and the anchorman asked Moore why he didn't have any representatives of the health care industry defending their side in"Sicko." Moore's answer? I'm paraphrasing, but basically he said that he didn't need to because Americans already know what the health care industry is doing to them. In other words, he really didn't justify his ommission of opposing viewpoints. To be fair, I haven't seen "Sicko" and I don't plan on seeing it, so I could be wrong about it. But I doubt it.

I'll get off my soapbox now. I just hope I don't fall off of it and injure myself before I get insurance again.

A Blessing in Disguise (or, The Bloggings of an Insomniac at Three o'Clock in the Morning)

In January, I got fired from my job. I had never been fired from a job before, but to be quite honest, I wasn't all that upset. I hated my job. I was an administrative assistant-slash-receptionist, the lowest rung on the ladder in a completely dysfunctional office. Just like Pam, from The Office (or Dawn, in the British version - both brilliant shows), but without the humor. Quite a cast of characters my co-workers were, too. (Again, like The Office,...). The dragon lady of an office manager was a bully who came from an extremely dysfunctional family. She felt she had something to prove because she didn't have the education or qualifications someone in her position would normally have. She managed to manipulate the partners of the firm every time she wanted things her way, usually by threatening to quit. But she never would. Frankly, I think she knew she wouldn't have it as good anywhere else as she had it at this job, hence her fierce determination to preserve her own standing in the company.

Then there were the partners who constantly pulled the "I'm working at home today" b.s. They barely put in a 9-to-5 work week, especially the one who would come in at 9:30 and leave at 4:45 every day because he had a "long commute." Except that the work week at this place was supposed to be 9-to-6, just to squeeze that extra hour of work each day from people without going over the 40-hour-a-week limit before being required to pay overtime. But the partners would all leave at 5 anyway. Yet they wanted the extra phone coverage during that last hour, so of course I got stuck staying until 6 every night. But the extra hour of work didn't make any sense. If anyone had called for the partners between 5 and 6 o'clock, (which no one did because everyone else in the entire city leaves work at 5), they wouldn't have been able to talk to them anyway because they had already gone home. Even when the office upgraded to a new voice mail system, I still ended up staying later than almost everyone else.

Then there was the Director of Marketing. What a freak! An aging hippie who prided himself on being liberal, he was an extremely repulsive little man with a Napoleon complex. He would walk around the office in his dirty old socks like the free spirit he pretended to be. He had b.o. and the vilest breath imaginable. And worst of all, he would fart whenever he felt like it and then act like nothing happened. He was also a creep. He leered at the women in the office. He would say the most inappropriate things in staff meetings. Whenever he spoke to me, his eyes would always dart down to my bust. He lived two hours away by train from his job so he routinely came in to work at 11:00 am and left at 3:00 pm, except for Wednesdays when he, too, pulled the "working at home" crap. Because he put in so little time at the office, he was always behind in his work. I guess "working at home" wasn't particularly effective for him, especially the days that I'd call him at home about something, only to be told that he was out riding his bike. Because he fell behind in his work all the time, I was given marketing tasks well beyond my job description, often working through lunch or past quitting time. In one case, I put together an entire proposal by myself for a major potential client, and the firm was awarded the job. I always held out hope that by doing the extra work, they would realize they needed another marketing person and promote me. But I never got a promotion. All I got was taken advantage of, in terms of my time and skills. Then one day, about a month before they let me go, they asked me to type up a classified ad they wanted to put in the newspaper - an ad for another marketing person. By that time, I didn't want to be promoted anymore, because it would have meant working directly for that repulsive little man. No thank you!

When the day came that I was called into the office of one of the partners and told that "there is no longer a place for you with the firm" (one week after returning from Christmas break), I was happy. I had been praying that I would get fired so that I could leave this job without having to give two weeks notice and train a replacement. And the day before I was let go, I had been in church again. An answer to my prayers, literally. I had been in therapy because of that job. Of course, getting fired meant I lost my insurance and was unable to continue with therapy. Then again, getting fired alleviated 99% of the problems that made me seek out a therapist in the first place. Over dinner one night after work with the only co-worker that I considered a friend, I confided in her that I was in therapy because of this job. My friend, who also hated her job at this place, then told me that she was also in therapy because of her job. I think we both took comfort in the fact that the other was in therapy too. It meant that it wasn't us, that we weren't crazy or unable to do our jobs. It validated our feelings that there was something wrong with that office and the people we worked for. "What is is about that place that made two nice girls go into therapy?" my friend asked. She ended up quitting her job two weeks after I got fired.

So now I find myself unemployed, and wondering whether I really want to take another office job. I'm gunshy about taking another secretarial job that will probably not lead to anything except more dashed hopes and unrealized ambitions. I shudder when I read the classifieds, and avoid all ads that say "Must be able to multi-task in a fast-paced environment." I am seriously considering taking a job in a tea shop, or a bookstore. Something that I enjoy, and that won't subject me to the corporate bullshit office dynamic. I just want a job with less stress. I derived no personal fulfillment or joy from my last job. Just let me go to work without crying on the bus, have a relatively easy day, come home, do a little writing, and then go to bed. I've come to the conclusion that I'm just not cut out for an office job. Maybe I'm just the "creative type." I once read an interview with the ceramic artist and interior designer Jonathan Adler. He said that he was almost fired from every single job he'd ever had. But once he quit the corporate world and began making his own pottery designs, he became successful. I remind myself of this every time I ponder whether I should take a job that has a certain level of security and pay, or do something that will make me happy. I'm leaning towards Happy. The world is my oyster, as the saying goes.

Does anyone else have any job-related horror stories they want to share?

By the way, if any of you fellow office slaves haven't seen the film "Clockwatchers" with Toni Collette and Lisa Kudrow, you totally should! Especially if you've ever been a temp (guilty!). The person who wrote the screenplay must have been a temp at some point (but ultimately went on to become a screenwriter - see, there is life after Corporate). The film captures spot-on the invisibility, dreariness, and lack of appreciation that goes along with the territory of being a temp in the corporate office environment.

And on a completely unrelated note before I'm off to bed:

Separated at birth?

Okie Dokie Pig in a Pokie

If you've ever seen The League of Gentlemen, a twisted but really rather funny British sketch comedy show from a few years back, you'll understand the title of this post. If you haven't, allow me to explain.

One of the recurring sketches in TLOG takes place at the "New Deal Job Seekers Club," an unemployment program in the fictional and very bizarre town in which all of the characters of the show reside. Pauline, the Restart Officer (above), starts class every time with a cheery "Okie dokie pig in a pokie" before proceeding to insult and undermine the "dole scum" she is supposed to be helping. It's funnier than I'm making it sound, believe me. The reason why I mention this is that presently I find myself in the same situation as the Job Seekers (though I'd hardly call myself "scum"!). And today, I've just received an email rejection letter for a job that I applied for but didn't really want. And they never even called me in for an interview.

It's particularly galling to be rejected for a job that one was merely "settling" for.