World O Work

Now that you've read my last post, I'll blow your mind and tell you I'm looking for work. Since we have no time table for this move, and we won't move until we sell our house, I figured it was time to go back to work. Two words: job search. Oh, what fun.

I've been out of work six months at the end of April, so I'm used to not working by now and have developed the necessary coping skills. I've discovered that I don't have to cram time on the treadmill, Bible study, taking a shower, getting dressed and eating breakfast into 40 minutes. I've found out that if I'm home, chores will be attracted to me like dryer lint. There always seems to be something to do or something that needs to be done. I've become my husband's personal shopper, the errand gal, the eternal church volunteer. It's been fun, but the pay is lousy. So, back to the working world I go.

Work is huge. Tell me I'm not the only one who thinks that in our culture WHAT you do is the talk of the party. I don't know how it is in other cultures, but in America, we see ourselves as defined by what we do. Our work becomes our social identity. We don't like this. We cry and pout and find distractions on the weekends or when we're not working, but the fact is if someone asks you what you do for a living you better have a darn good answer. Otherwise, you'll feel like you need to go out and get a better job. Or follow your passion until it pays off. In the six months I've been out of work, I've had to explain my lack of identity numerous times. The fact was the position I had was eliminated, and that explanation works well, thanks to the big word of the 90s: downsizing. But what am I doing now? I'm unemployed. I'm a homemaker. I'm a stay-at-home pet caretaker. All those things are true.

So, I've been looking for work. I've registered with the Employment Department and check their website regularly. Ditto for the online classifieds in the local paper. Last week I filed for unemployment insurance online, a new and relatively painless procedure here in Oregon. If I'm not hired this week, I should be able to claim and get a tidy little sum to boost the checking account. I've developed half a dozen different resumes, or a new one for each job I applied for. I've filled out the County application form, by hand, three times. I've filled out the State application, by computer, twice now. And there was that one application that asked for my last 10 jobs -- not 10 years of work history, but 10 jobs! Oh, I've been busy. And, you know, I kind of like the whole job search thing. I mean, looking for a job is a job in itself. I can sit at my computer all morning -- searching the Internet, vamping up my resume, answering essay questions for an application -- and feel I've truly accomplished something. My secret fear is that when I get the actual job it won't be as rewarding as this whole job search has been, this productive busy-ness that is so much about self I feel a blush coming on. If you're looking for work, you better learn how to talk/write about yourself. It better be flattering, things your mom would say when you did something to make her proud.

When I worked with students in a job training program, I frequently had to teach and coach them regarding job search skills and techniques. I taught a class on resume writing for a partner agency at the Employment Office. I served as a judge at "Interview Olympics" twice. I know this stuff. So, today when I went in for an interview with the City of Newport and one of the nice people asked me, "How did you prepare for your interview today?" I piped up, "I tried to remember all the good advice I gave my students!" You know: be on time (or five minutes early), be dressed appropriately, be prepared, be yourself. I'm always sitting on the fence, though, when I come out of an interview. Like today. My throat was raspy. Did I talk too much? I think they liked me. But that one gal sure was making a lot of notes. I was poised, pleasant. Can someone not hire you because of your funky hairstyle? You never know.

They're nosy, these interviewers. Today, someone asked me all about my experience using word processing programs and spreadsheet applications. So, I told them about that. Then, when I asked if there was a lot of data entry I was told no, not really. The weirdest question I've ever had in an interview: What's the capitol of North Dakota? This was for a job with the County and had nothing to do with North Dakota. Fortunately, I knew the answer and didn't have to phone a friend. At one interview, a guy said he could tell a lot about a person by looking at the contents of his/her car. He wanted to know if he could go out and look in my car. I had no problems with that, but for those of us who live in our cars (and you know who you are) it could have been a real psych out. What can a prospective employer learn about you if your back seat is full of fast food detritus and you're using your floorboards for a dirty clothes hamper? I'm guessing the best way to approach an interview is to give the people what they want. Be the model prospective employee. After you're hired you can revert to the slob that you are. If you make yourself invaluable, it's unlikely you'll get fired.

My brother and I cackle over the BBC docu-sitcom The Office. The Office has the worst boss in the world, an egotistical wiseacre that tells off-color jokes and insults his employees with his own rapacious stupidity. On one episode, he tells the office that he has good news and bad news. Of course, they want to hear the bad news first: they're closing this office and all of you will be fired. The good news: the boss is getting a promotion! This TV boss reminds me of one boss I had. My co-worker and I nicknamed him The Troll. He was a short, unattractive man who would come and review our work and NEVER SPEAK DIRECTLY TO US. We'd be sitting in the same room and he would talk to our site supervisor about tasks we did every day. The Troll was a nasty piece of business and didn't last long. Hey, we way-outlasted him.

Someone asked me at the interview today what I considered to be the traits of a good boss. You've got to have someone who has a plan, who can take control, who knows how to motivate the workforce without burning the village. You've got to have someone you can talk to, communicate with, someone who will ask for your input and listen to your suggestions. I've had some good bosses. And I've had some just weird bosses. Like the boss who turned on the faucet every time he went in the bathroom so you couldn't hear him pee.

So, I'm looking for work and making work of it. I'm praying about this whole process, asking God to sort out the offers and choose the one that's best for me. That sounds kind of selfish, and it probably won't work out that way. I might have to make some hard choices. I'll have to pray about those, too. But, it's been interesting. At 40 I seem to arrived at a place in my life where the old job search doesn't hold so much terror, and that's a good thing. I'll keep you posted.