Kevin It’s been 2 years. 2 long, miserable, rotten, worthless, wasted years. Thousands upon thousands upon thousands of applications, half of which I literally didn’t give even a fraction of a rat’s ass about. The other half I cared about. Whether I actually cared about the job and the company or not, I went into every single one of those stupid, hateful applications genuinely believing I had something of value to offer.
The companies believed otherwise. In their book, I felt like I was literal dogshit personified. The exceptions were the scammy MLMs who target anyone and everyone w/ a pulse, the shady crypto/forex dopes that seem to operate on just this side of the law, and the janky companies wanting to pay me a penny per word.
I didn’t start out looking for the roles I spent the better part of the past year looking in. No, I pursued a different direction, content writing, and for the year of my life I wasted on it, every single company made me sorry I ever bothered in the first place.
The straw that broke the camel’s back w/ content writing and copywriting was the company who dumped bundles of client work on us job seekers, nagged me endlessly from the minute they sent it to me, and then threw a tantrum and resorted to character assassination at me 3 days later when I didn’t have it all done by then.
Those snotty, sorry fuckers. I should also mention this was relatively minor compared to the nastiness another one slung at me the week after my mom died.
Throw in yet another horrible experience after that, and I drew that line. I’m fuckin done. I decided these companies spent enough time in life profiting off my intellectual property and bilking content from me, since the portfolio I spent years putting together was still irrelevant trash, and it still wasn’t enough to convince any of em of anything.
That does it. I won’t help em, ever again. They can go help their own damn selves. They can hit up Dr. Google and muddle through it, just like yours truly.
Best of luck to them. They’re the ones who have to live w/ themselves at the end of the day, and that’s the worst punishment I can think of, other than being jobless.
I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, even though it’s what some of the ppl who treated me like garbage at these companies deserve. Not even an enemy. Not even Hitler himself, ffs.
I felt like Job Haverdom was a secret club only the chosen can join. I felt like Job Haverdom worked like Calvinism, operating on the premise of predestination. Maybe the Job Gods of Job Haverdom went through lists of ppl, and went like, ‘I like them, I like them, don’t want them, don’t want them, I like them,’ and so on and so forth.
Yeah, that’s gotta be it.
Maybe my luck’s run out? Maybe it’s time to start watching other shows, since those are no longer lucky. Maybe it’s time to start wearing other stuff, since what I had on the day they rejected me is no longer lucky. Maybe the luck has to regenerate?
That’s gotta be it.
As a last-ditch attempt at the local jobs I could either duke out 4-6 mile walks to, or get to by bike or bus, I applied at a bunch of em, but this time staying away from the ones who treated me like garbage in the past. Isn’t the definition of insanity doing the same thing over and over and expecting the same results?
Learned that the hard way w/ a local agency I had a horrible experience w/ back in college during my first job search. Shock of shocks, 17 years later, they were still just as nasty, cruel, and abusive toward me. Nothing about that shithole of an agency had changed.
Another company had changed, all right. Just not for the better.
Another company had a manager who thought it was ok to sexually harass candidates, and then throw a tantrum when they proved to be more difficult targets than he thought. True story. I even tried to report it to the Powers that Be at that company, and based on their actions, they know and don’t give a shyt.
Big surprise he’s still there, nearly 2 years later. Said no one, evar. I shouldn’t have expected any different anyways.
And to think someone tried to convince me to reapply there. Yeah, nope. Not after I saw that creepy manager step outside for a bit.
He didn’t see me, which was fine by me.
Another company had a manager who thought it was ok to leer at candidates when they came in to bring paper applications in, and then rip em up when they thought they were out of candidates’ sight.
It wouldn’t be the first time that happened, either, as sad as it is to say.
These companies still have their “Help Wanted” signs up, and the ones that post their job ads online, they keep reposting em. I no longer feel one bit sorry for any of these companies that they “can’t find anyone.”
My heart goes out to everyone these disgusting, despicable companies chose over me. My heart also goes out to the ones the companies like these chose over me, too.
After I applied for an as-needed role w/ a local agency I had reasonably decent enough luck at in the past w/ a volunteer role back in college, I saw an ad on TV about an upcoming job fair. I felt like it would be an all-around better idea to apply and then go to the job fair.
The next day, I went to the job fair after I found my old favorite Bonnie Jean dress in my closet, w/ a green plaid bottom and a navy velvet top. It’s one of those pullover styles, one of the few I’m able to get into w/o help, since I no longer have help to get dressed.
Seriously, I’d love to tar and feather whoever came up w/ the idea to put zippers (or worse, buttons) up the back of dresses, before I keelhaul em, the bastards.
I got that dress from Dillard’s about 4 years ago, while I was losing the weight. Before anyone freaks out, I’m also 5’1. Since I started at a high enough BMI, I was losing the weight fairly quick at the deficit I was running at. When that dress arrived for pickup, it just barely fit.
The old me would’ve been devastated. Then, I just reminded myself that up until then, there was a time were that didn’t fit at all. Now, it’s a different story. I can say for sure it’s not too big for me, I promise!
I grabbed my old black dressy-style coat, which has long since seen better days by now. I grabbed my gym bag and my mittens, stuffed em in the one pocket w/ the lining that hasn’t disintegrated, and headed out the door. It was still early enough that ppl hadn’t yet left for work.
I wished I’d thought to bring the radio along, but it was still early enough the AM country station probably hadn’t powered up yet from the super-low frequency it drops down to at night. It shares a dial number w/ a station out of Canada, and to give it space on the airwaves, it powers down at night.
I went the same way I did when I went to the pool, and crossed the same street I used to go down when I was at the community college. Nothing about that part of the neighborhood’s changed in the years it’s been since I last saw the inside of that place in 2006.
Instead of turning left for the pool, I’d be going straight for the job fair, which wasn’t too far off. I was also familiar enough w/ the area, since I rode my bike around there several years back. I cut through the alley, and an auto shop parking lot, then found the building. As soon as there was a break in the growing traffic, I hauled ass across the street.
I walked inside, realizing it was a blessing that my bike needed to be fixed. There was nowhere to lock it up to anyways.
I checked in, and picked up a freebie small notebook and a cell phone popper thingie that sticks on the back of cases. My old one had long since bit the dust, and it was also a freebie I got from the fair like 3 years ago.
I sat on the exercise ball off to the side since there were no chairs, and waited my turn. It ended up being a panel interview, and panel interviews seldom ever ended well for me. It was like they were all waiting in the wings for me to screw up and to find something to hold against me.
I mentioned that this wouldn’t be my only job, for the sake of honesty. That was as good a nail in the coffin as any, since the last time I mentioned that I’d have another job, they threw a tantrum about it and rejected me out of spite.
This company wasn’t demanding to be my one and only, be-all, end-all. Wow. What’s the catch here? There’s literally ALWAYS a catch. They offered me the job that same day, too.
Same-day offers never ended well for me, either. The last time I came close to falling for a same-day offer, it turned out to be a scam. I was like, I need a little bit to think about it.
They were cool w/ that, too.
In the past, that never ended well.
The interview ended, and we parted ways. On my walk back home, passing by a run-down house I liked by the alley, I mulled it all over.
The plan was on. This was gonna be my safety net, and help me get to safer ground. It would also serve as a guarantee that I’d never end up in this mess, ever again.
I found an email w/ the offer acceptance later that day, and I accepted it. It wasn’t what I was hoping for, but I’m at peace w/ it, and I’m thankful for it, all the same.
That being said, I did like volunteering back in college at the school I was chosen to serve at. I still wonder how those kids are holding up these days.
I couldn’t even bring myself to write about this whole mess. It’s why my journals and everything else went on the back burner, including this blog. No more. That ends, now. I know there’s someone out there who thinks I need to stop blogging and write only about career stuff, forever and ever. Well, maybe not forever and ever, but you get the point.
Nope. Not happening anymore. I spent this past year writing about recruiting and all that stuff, and none of it mattered. Nobody gave a rat’s ass. None of it made even one single, solitary, fuckin bit of difference. Was it wasted time and energy? Sort of. Do I regret ever even listening to those ppl who told me to write about it? Sort of.
I learned something new from all that, and that’s something nobody can ever take away from me.
I know one thing’s for sure, I’m never letting anyone take me away from this blog, ever again. This blog is my thing, my work, my sweat, and my effort. I’ve now spent 3 years on this blog, and anyone who tries to take this blog away from me again can fuck off and pound sand for all I care. This blog’s for my future kids, for those who are just starting their own weight loss missions, and are wanting to see how it is on the other side, and if you found this blog, then it’s also for you, readers!
But, going back to the stuff I said about how things got so bad for me that I couldn’t even begin to write about it. I noticed that this was a pattern in my life. I rarely wrote about any of the other horrible times in my life, and only wrote about it after the fact, when I was out of that situation.
I think that’s the only time I ever felt safe writing about anything bad going on in my life. I feel like for some, you gotta be out of it before it’s a story that’s ready to tell to others. I know others write about what’s happening while they’re in it. That’s not to say I’ve never done that before. I have. I got a few journals from when I was in other rotten places in life, but I didn’t always write about the extent of how bad things got for me until it was all over.
The best thing about journaling is that it’s your story. You get to tell it on your terms, nobody else’s. If you decide to never share your story, that’s also ok. Over to you, readers. You ever kept a journal and fell off the wagon on account of something going on in your life? Can you relate to this in some other way? If so, know that I see you, and that you matter to me, no matter what the Powers that Be at a company says. Drop it all like it’s hot, and let’s talk. I’d love to hear your thoughts and takeaways.
