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Monday, Well, 13 was SUPPOSED to be my lucky number Scratch another job -- once again, "it was soooooo close -- but they decided to go with someone else." That's actually worse than being told, "Look, you're good but you're not really suitable for the job" -- you're essentially being told that you are good, oh, yes. You're just not good enough. Arrgh. It's also annoying in this case because I thought the hiring manager really liked me, and I honestly liked her. I asked the recruiter to do some digging and find out why exactly I was passed over for this job (it was a piddly little six week contract, for Boombah's sake -- I can't even get a piddly little six week contract?). If I am doing something wrong during an interview or lacking something vital in my resume, I want to know about it. *sigh* At least this is an improvement of sorts -- I didn't even have any interviews with real hiring managers until last week. May through July was a wasteland of submitting resumes, talking to recruiters and keeping my fingers crossed. So I've moved up a notch to actually getting to interview with people -- the next logical step is to be hired, right? Oh, please, God.
Praise Dubya and pass the packing tape Much as I hate to even think this (I mean, I just got my office unpacked, dammit), if things don't improve within the next two weeks or so, I'm going to have to think about moving somewhere where there's work, like back East. Dallas is such a techy town, and it was slammed hard by the tech market crash -- conservative estimates say that at least 10,000 support people were put out of work in April and May, and you can bet that number just keeps going up with each passing month. Now, I'd be more than happy to move out of the tech field -- I'm flexible, I can write about anything, I'd even take another administrative assistant position if I had to. Hell, I could probably find a job tomorrow if I wanted to go that route or get into temping -- according to the typing test I took at the local university last week I have a 70 WPM typing speed, which is pretty darned good. My sticking point is that, in order to maintain this apartment and cover all the bills, I have to make a certain amount of money, and I don't see that amount in any other field. Even if I got a side job nights and weekends, I don't think I could make the nut. And yes, I know I'm married and Lyndon can find a job. But he doesn't have a job here at the moment (thank you, TBS, may your ugly Village become a haven for buzzards and telemarketers) and the tech crash hit his field even harder than it hit mine, so it won't be that easy for him to find work. Which means it's up to me to cover the bills, at least initially. Which means I'm stuck with a nasty choice -- stick it out in a town where I can't seem to get hired, or go through the hell of packing and move somewhere else where I can. Of course, this happens now that I've finally made friends, found a writing group I liked, and started putting down, if not roots, then the vague beginnings of rhyzomes. Shit. Shit shit shit.
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