Job-Hunting, Desert-Dwelling, & Scorpions Under Rocks
This is going to be pretty brief because I need to get to bed, but I had to write something before turning in.
I just spent the evening applying for fifteen jobs. Fifteen.
And I will probably not hear back from any of them. I’m not being pessimistic, just realistic. This is a normal job-applying evening for me. I do it in bulk, which someone is bound to tell me isn’t wise, but I am desperate. Des-per-ate. Then again, so is much of this country. Part of me wants to take solace in the fact that I am, without a doubt, not alone. The job market is wrecked and there are a lot of people applying for each job out there. But that really is little comfort at the end of the day, when I’m trying to fall asleep knowing that tomorrow will just bring more anxiety and more job-hunting.
I was pretty naive about looking for work. I knew it would take a couple of months, maybe two? And I’d apply to several places, and have a few interviews before anyone hired me. I’ve heard all of the stories, of course. People out of work for months, a year, over a year. Filling out hundreds of applications and sending their resumes everywhere before they even get a nibble. But I’ve always been lucky. I’m good at finding little pots of gold. Or stumbling over them, ha. But it’s not happening yet. I’ve applied and applied and I’ve only gotten two interviews (but for the same job) since I started in October.
I keep telling myself to stay positive, that this isn’t a reflection of my achievements or my self worth, and I know, rationally, that it isn’t. Everyone is struggling (except, perhaps, that cushy 1%). My anxiety inflates every little negative piece of sand and turns it into a desert. There are several deserts sitting in the pit of my stomach right now. Yep, I’ve always been a fan of arid climates, sand dunes, camels, scorpions under white-hot rocks and dried-out gourds crackling in your fist. But not when they are located inside of me.
On the bright side, I’m planning on going to the library down the street to do a little creative writing tomorrow morning, and I’m probably going hiking with Leslie in the afternoon. I hope Steph makes it, but she will probably be too tired and in too much pain. She will need the heating pad around her neck and a much-deserved nap.
And, POOF! Just like that, thinking about the sunshine and fresh air and dusty books that tomorrow promises, I feel so, so, so much better.