Victory is Mine!

It's official—I'm starting my fabulous NEW JOB on Monday! I'll be working in a customer service capacity for a giant company that's been doing commercial printing for more than 140 years.

No more spending all day in sweatpants and flipflops.

More t/k!

Third Interview Notes

Thursday morning, I interviewed for the third time with a company I really want to work for.

I applied for the job in mid-November, thinking "this is way out of my league, I'll never hear from them." In early December, I got an email inviting me to do a phone interview on December 12.

When the call came, the woman conducting the interview identified herself as being a bigwig, in charge of the West Coast division I'd be a part of if I am hired. I found it interesting that she was conducting preliminary interviews herself. In my experience, first interviews done by phone are usually conducted by HR staff, to weed out people who are not viable candidates before the bosses get involved. But I liked the fact that the woman who would be my boss was so hands-on in this process. (Note: she lives out of state, and runs the division remotely from where she lives, which involves a lot of email, phone calls, and travel.)

The job sounded absolutely perfect. The phone interview went well, and she referred me to a man in the local office, telling me he'd be in touch to interview me. I sent her a thank you, and she confirmed that Mr. Local Office would be in touch "soon."

Mr. Local Office was in touch the next day, and we made arrangements for me to interview later that week, December 15. I enjoyed speaking with Mr. Local Office, and thought the interview went well—he and I agreed on that point. Mr. Local Office told me he'd report as much to Ms. Bigwig.

I drove home, thrilled and excited. I sent a thank you to both Ms. Bigwig and Mr. Local Office. Ms. Bigwig replied that Mr. Local Office had "great things to say about me," so I felt encouraged. But I also worried, because the holidays were coming, and I knew that some offices didn't do much during holiday time. It might be two or three weeks to hear anything about this job. I hunkered down to wait.

Xmas came and went. New Year's came and went. After three weeks I couldn't stand it anymore. I sort of knew that if three weeks had gone by, I was out of the running for the job in the local office, but I hadn't been rejected yet, so on a string of hope and a dose of wild tossing of caution to the wind, I sent an email to Ms. Bigwig, saying I wasn't sure where she was in the decision-making process, but that I was still very interested in the position. (I never do this. I stand firm on the ground that if people want you, they will contact you.) She replied that they'd filled the local office position, but that they had other openings in other offices. Ugh. I was crushed when my fear was confirmed, but that emotion was slightly offset by the possibility of a job in another office. She added that she was traveling and was going to be in the local office on January 19, and wanted to meet with me in person that day. My hope was truly re-kindled when I heard this, and we made arrangements to meet.

When January 19 came, we had our meeting in a local Starbucks. I enjoyed the meeting and must have made a good impression, because she told me she wanted to send me to another local office, to interview with at least two, and possibly three people. I am really pleased that she went out of her way to meet me on a very tight schedule, and that she is referring me to another office. I told her that I'm really excited about the possibility of working in this other local office. I'm nervous about meeting with so many people, but I'll do my best dog-and-pony show, because this job is just about perfect.

I'm waiting to hear what the next step is.

Fingers crossed.

Test Observations

I took the test for the government job Saturday. The test took place at a San Diego elementary school, at 1pm.


I left the house early, so I would not have to rush. As I got closer to the test site, I found myself in a dumpy-to-bad neighborhood, and I worried my car would be broken into. I had to push that thought aside, though, because I'd driven about an hour to take the test, and I wasn't going to give up just because of the neighborhood. 


When I arrived at the test site, about two dozen people were milling around, waiting to test. It was only 12:30, so I was about half an hour early. I decided to use the facilities, and there was about a ten minute wait. While I languished in line, more testers turned up, rounding the numbers out to about sixty. I took my turn in the bathroom (there was only one stall!), then got in the official waiting-to-test line. As soon as I got in that line, another line formed to the right, then another after that. I tried to count how many people were lined up, but I couldn't see everyone, so I gave up, hoping to re-count once we were seated inside.

While we waited, our i.d.s were checked, along with our notices to appear for testing. I observed the crowd as I waited. About two thirds of the people were at least 15 years younger than I am. There were slightly more women than men. Most people were in jeans. Some were in tracksuits. At least two women had on over-the-knee boots. One woman had a Balenciaga bag. The men were mostly clad in jeans and hoodies. There were many different demographic groups represented. 

At about 1:05, after the third line firmed up, we were herded into a school building. The room we entered turned out to be the school gym/lunchroom/auditorium, and was populated with five very long tables, which could seat 50-75 children each side. The test proctors instructed us to spread out and leave space between us. After everyone had filed in and found a seat, each table had approximately 20-30 adults on each side.


Announcements admonishing us not to cheat, talk, or peek were made. They told us we'd have two hours and 15 minutes to complete the test, adding that anyone who was still testing when time was called would have to stop, regardless of how many questions they had left to answer. We got a few instructions on using the ScanTron sheets, then we were told to start the test. By this time, it was 1:15pm


Being out of practice for this kind of thing, I moved slowly through the first five questions, then I began to pick up speed. As I absorbed the tone and nature of the questions (not nearly as tough as I expected them to be), I began to feel a bit of confidence. I quickly realized the test standard was mediocre. Some of the questions were so obvious I nearly slapped my forehead. I had to guess at only four questions, and not all of them were math questions, the ones I feared the most. (Math was my worst subject, but we were allowed to use calculators, so I did okay on that section, apart from one question about decimal places that I'm sure I answered incorrectly.)


I finished my test within about an hours' time. I wasn't rushing. I was really surprised about this. Almost everyone was still seated. I estimate that about four people finished before me, including the woman I spoke to while waiting in line (see below). I felt funny walking the length of the room with so many people still testing. I felt like I had a red flag on my head. But walk the length of it I did, and finally reaching the proctors' table. I handed in my test papers, and left. 


It was a unique experience, getting a view of my level of intelligence in this context. I was curious about how people felt about the test, but there was no way to ask anyone what they thought. The woman I'd been in line next to was long gone, so there was no chance of a conversation with her. 


I have new perspective, too, after seeing a cross-section of my competition for this job. I've rarely caught a glimpse of those applying for the jobs I am trying for. I think I prefer not knowing who my competition is. 

Numbers: 
• The woman in front of me in line said that there were more than 1,000 applicants for the position 
• I asked her how long she'd been looking for work: "14 months" she answered
• I estimate that there were between 130–150 people testing during this administration of the test 
• There were at least four administrations of the test 
• So after doing some cipherin' and some guzintahs, that would mean that approximately 520–600 people testing
• Thus, I draw the conclusion that only half the people who applied were culled
• The woman in front of me in line said the top scorers would be tossed out of the viable applicants pool
• After the test results are tabulated, "some" applicants will be contacted for interviews
• They allotted 2.25 hours, I finished in 64 minutes. There were 110 questions. I guessed at four
• I was about the fifth person to finish

What do we think my chances are?

Testing, Testing . . . .

Saturday, I'm taking a written exam for a government job. I've been notified that it's going to be two hours and fifteen minutes long.

I've tried consulting people I know about what I can expect, but the only local person I know who's in government hasn't replied to my email about it, so I will just have to wing it. I suppose it'll be like the SATs, but this time, I get to have a calculator, which is a relief, because math was my worst subject.

K.Line told me a few things about what it might be like, so I'm taking her comments to heart and am grateful for the time she took to discuss it with me.

I'm sure I'll focus on what the other test-takers look like, and say. I'll be very interested to people-watch in this particular instance. I'm really wondering what my "competition" will be for this job.

Did I mention it's entry-level? Ugh. I can't believe I'm pursuing this option, but it's the only viable one I have right now.

* * *

Last month I interviewed for my dream job, with my dream company, but the position was offered to someone else. I have since found out that there are other similar positions in other locations, but it would mean I'd have to leave my family to work for this company. At this point, I won't rule that out.

I'm also considering doing an exhaustive job search in the town my sister lives in, because I could live with her rent-free, and send all my wages home. At least I'd be living with family. Of course, this idea, and the idea of relocation in general is fraught, and risky, but what else can I do?

Thoughts?

Rearranging Deck Chairs

Nothing new is happening. People keep asking me how my job-hunt is going, and it isn't really going anywhere.

I had an interview last week, but it was over before it even started. I got an email on Wednesday from a woman who wanted to arrange a phone interview for Monday. The email looked a bit funny (not funny "ha ha," but funny "this could be spam). It seemed partially legitimate, so I checked her name out on LinkedIn and she's a real person. Her company is interesting. But the job title she cited as the one I'd applied for didn't sound familiar. I checked through my records—I save all emails, letters, and job postings, and I keep a database of all the jobs I've applied for. No luck—the job title she referred to didn't match anything I'd applied for, but since it was similar to ones I've applied for, and since she seemed to check out, and since I want to work, I replied to the email agreeing to the phone interview. Now we shall see if she calls on Monday.

It's December 10, and I'm adjusting my goals. Originally, after I got laid off, I wanted a job right away, so that there was virtually no lag time between jobs. I knew this goal was preposterous, and entirely unlikely to be met despite anything I attempted to do to meet it, but it was my goal, and I was going to pursue it. After about a month, I re-evaluated, and decided that I'd hope for a job by the end of the year, knowing full well that nobody does any hiring during the holiday season. Again, a preposterous goal, but it drove me forward and kept me focused. When the calendar turned over to December, I counted how many jobs I've applied for since September 18, when I started job search #2. 80. I re-evaluated my goal again, and thought it might be interesting to try to apply for 20 more jobs before the end of the year, bringing my total up to 100. It's a numbers game now. If I do meet that number, it'll be 200 jobs I've applied for in six months.

I'm now no longer upset about rejections, either outright or implied by inaction. I'm honing my criteria and applying for fewer jobs. I'm only applying for jobs I have a chance of getting. When I started this search, I applied for everything that was even feasible. Of course, I thought lots of those jobs I applied for were feasible, but many weren't. Now I'm not "shooting for everything," I'm just casting an informed, wide net. I'm not applying for things that I have no chance of ever getting.

I re-did my résumé again (4th time), in hopes that it'll garner more response. I'm branching out, trying to find new companies and job boards to use. I'm worn out, and I feel like I'm rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. I'm ready for this year to be over. It won't feel any different when 2012 comes, but I'll draw a line under 2011, and try to get a fresh mindset as the New Year arrives.

Hurry, 2012!

Chapter Musings

A few days ago I posted three sentences about how the company I was working for folded. I said I wasn't sure how I felt about it then, and I'm still not sure now, since this kind of strange grief is always evolving, but here are some thoughts.

First, a bit of background: The company was a staffing/recruiting agency whose mission was to assist transitioning military and veterans get civilian job training and job placement. I started working there on July 12, I was laid off on October 10, and I was notified that the company folded on November 18.

Now for the thoughts:

I wasn't entirely happy in that job.

I was relieved to be laid off in the first place, because it meant I didn't have to go back to doing the things in the job description that I didn't like, but I had enough awareness to know that that was my knee-jerk reaction. For the record, there was stuff in my job description that I absolutely loved. Anyway, I knew I'd feel nervous and panicky about it at some point. About a week after the layoff, nervous and panicky and set in. For about three weeks afterwards, those two feelings devolved into a debilitating brand of despair, which I tried to fight off with obsessive job-hunting. That didn't work at all.

I was overtaken by worry that I'd never find a job "in this economy," and I became so focused on every résumé I sent out, every interview I went on, and every possibility I unearthed, that I was completely wound up all day, every day. And if I was rejected, I was inconsolable.

Dave (my husband), and I had a big talk about it about two weeks ago, and we agreed that I needed to be less consumed by how many résumés I sent out, and more focused on finding the right job. The talk was a relief, but the actual "being less consumed" part is something I have yet to figure out.

When my former supervisor called and told me the company had folded, I wasn't really surprised. A few of my friends have suggested that maybe I saw this coming, and maybe it's kind of a relief. Yes to both.

The company finances had been a huge challenge for some time, and try as they might, management weren't able to keep the company afloat. And they tried valiantly. As things disintegrated at work, I metaphorically looked over my shoulder all day long. One day, while I was still employed there, I just packed up all my personal belongings and took them home, based on a gut feeling I had. I kept on working there for a few weeks after doing that, but I knew it was only a matter of time before it was my turn to be laid off.

Trouble is, it was also lots of other people's turns to be laid off. In particular, I winced when I thought of the husband and wife who had been there since the beginning, but were now both out of work. How would they manage? They have kids . . . . My heart sank when I thought of all the single people who lost their jobs; these people had no partner to contribute a salary to help pay bills. *sigh* Another person I know suffered such a financial devastation that I can't even describe it here. I feel so much worry and concern for the others who have been laid off . . . I wonder what they will do. I sometimes have to push those thoughts out of my head so I don't become overwhelmed. I have my own family to care for.

It was really draining and demoralizing to work in the company and know that "the ship was taking on water." More than once I mentioned to Dave that every day at work, I felt like we were all rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. So when the layoff came, it meant an end to the apprehension and the anxiety. At least we had an answer. Management expressed hope that they'd be able to right the ship, but a few weeks later, the end came. (Lots of boat metaphors. That's all I can come up with right now.)

I feel drained, despondent, and a bit depressed. I try to console myself by remembering the good we did: simply by doing our jobs, my colleagues and I helped a veteran—who was living in a shelter with his wife and two children—get job training and a very well-paying job, and now that man is supporting his family. That is only one story. My company helped many, many others, too. That feels good. I don't think I've ever worked in a job that had such a direct positive impact on others.

Two days ago, Dave and I went grocery shopping, and right outside the entrance, there were two guys sitting at little tables, with coin cans and display placards requesting donations for veterans. We see this a lot. I turn away every time I go by one of those setups. The only thing I say to them if they ask me for money is "Sorry, not today." Then I keep walking.

A Chapter Ends . . . .

About an hour ago, I got a call from my now-former supervisor. He was calling to tell me that the company I'd been laid off from folded today.

I'm not sure how I feel about it.