Pounding More Than Pavement: My Frustrations of Job Searching

Unless you’re looking for work, there’s no way you could understand how difficult it can be just to find a decent job.

If I submit 20 applications in a week, you would think that at least one of those would result in an interview, right? It’s a 5 percent success rate. That’s what I hope for, and I’ve turned up empty-handed.

The hardest part is just filling out the application. I have to fill out information for at least 8 different jobs, more if I want to list repeat performances at the same employer. Some places expect a phone number and the name of a manager. My work history spans over 12 years, and includes a store that filed for bankruptcy and closed. At least one of my past supervisors has retired, while others have moved around to different store locations and others have just moved on to other companies. And then, one of my more recent employers happens to be the brother of my ex fiancé, so I’m nervous about any biases he might have against me. If I have to fill out an application where I can’t just import data from somewhere else, I’m spending an hour flipping between tabs in Firefox just to review all of my employment information, with another tab to Google for phone numbers for all of these jobs. And to be honest, I really don’t remember exactly what I had been getting paid, other than my lowest has been $6.25 an hour and my highest has been $12 per hour.

My experience puts me in a bad spot. I have a lot of experience as a sales associate and cashier working in retail environments. I don’t have a lot of management experience. For some places, I’m going to be seen as overqualified. With my experience, I could ask for higher wages. Unfortunately, companies could hire someone who they can pay less. So if I apply for a low-rung management job, I’m up against people with more management experience than I have, which looks better to an employer. In that sense, I’m actually unqualified. It’s like the fact that I have an Associates degree, in that I’m not seen as qualified for a position that requires a Bachelors degree even if I do have the knowledge and experience required.

So if I’m not getting interviews, it looks like I haven’t done anything.

That’s when people step in and offer advice, such as, “have you tried actually pounding pavement? Some places won’t post their jobs online.”

Thank you! I did spend a day trying to pound pavement. Between four different Asian restaurants, I filled out one application, left my name and phone number at two locations, and at the fourth location I was told they weren’t hiring and just sent away. I figured an Asian restaurant would give me an excuse to work on my Japanese, possibly even whipping up okonomiyaki in the kitchen if I was able.

At another restaurant, I asked for an application and was handed one to fill out, and then I was told to complete the form outside of the establishment. This was in the afternoon, and the restaurant was absolutely not busy, so they could have allowed me to sit at their bar or one of their tables and made it look like they were working. I’m fairly certain that my application was filed in the circular filing cabinet anyway, just based on how the one waitress acted towards me.

“Well do you have any waitressing skills?” No, but I could be a dishwasher, or I could bus tables. Does it matter what my skills are? You probably asked me to apply everywhere that was hiring, even though I’ve been trying to find work related to things I know I can do.

Which brings me to my next issue, and that’s the people who act like there is someone, somewhere, who is handing out jobs, but they can’t seem to tell you who that person is. I’m already dealing with my own thoughts about my debt, the bills I have to pay, the ways I’ve probably messed up an application, the fact that I’m not getting phone calls for interviews. Adding to my stress by making me feel like I’m not already spending enough time on job applications, or that I must be making mistakes that no normal person would ever make, is not helping my situation.

And then there’s McDonald’s.

Anyone who suggests that I should work at McDonald’s is the most infuriating person I could meet. I’m not saying the work is beneath me. I will say that there are easier positions that pay more. I just worked at a call center, getting paid $11 to sit in front of a computer and call people. If they were angry, I just had to hear them complain before they hung up the phone as forcefully as they could manage. If I work at McDonald’s, I might be lucky to make $9 an hour, but I certainly won’t be given a full-time shift of 40 hours a week. If I get 20 hours a week, I’ll have to deal with the possibility of hot grease burns on my skin, I’ll have to deal with customers who are irate,…

Actually, let’s talk about McDonald’s customers. People who unleash their temper over an ingredient being put on a burger that they didn’t want, even though they’re not allergic to that ingredient. People who throw things at the employees because things didn’t go their way. People who say the workers are incompetent, even if they make simple mistakes that can easily be fixed if the customer had any patience. People who leave their trash on the tables because they don’t feel like picking up after themselves.

A $2 cut in pay and being scheduled for half as many hours is not worth having to deal with all of that. I’d rather work at the porn store and deal with an armed robbery. If you work in fast food, I really hope the minimum wage goes up and you get paid what you deserve.

If you were wondering, I’ve been trying to work with staffing agencies as well. My last staffing agency hasn’t returned my call after I found a position I was interested in applying for. I just met with another staffing agency today which has two positions lined up that would work with my skills. I’m hoping for that to be my silver lining in all of this, and even if it’s not a permanent position, it should hopefully be something to get me back on my feet for a little while.

I want to be more than I am. I just need an opportunity to show what I can do in the meantime.

Gotta Be Coached

Just when I thought things were picking up, I learned there was an emphasis on the word “temp” in the phrase “temp agency.” I was hoping for a longer run, but the work dried up and the need for me was no more.

A lot of good came from having a job again. Probably the most important thing was being able to pay off one of the smaller creditors. Unfortunately I also had a $500 car repair bill, which would have helped to pay off more of my debts if I didn’t need the repair. It is what it is.

Before I left New Jersey, when I had just started with an insurance job, there was one day during training when one of the owners of the agency came in to our class and spoke to us. He gave us four things to remember to do:

  1. Write down your dreams
  2. Be coachable
  3. Have a good attitude
  4. Let go of fears

At the time, I wasn’t writing down my dreams even though the idea of going to Japan was at the forefront. I did have a good attitude, as I was convinced, even while I was watching everything fall apart, that I was doing just fine and that my problems at the time were starting to turn around. I didn’t even think of my fears, so how could I let them go? What was I even afraid of at that time? As for being coachable, I wasn’t in a position to be coached, so I didn’t have to worry about that at the time.

I was coached once in this past month. When I was told I would be coached at some point during that day, it felt like the equivalent of saying to me, “wait until your father gets home.” I was a bit nervous, wondering what I had done wrong in my calls and everything else.

It wasn’t as terrible as I had anticipated, though. To begin, one of my calls was audited and I scored a 92 out of 100. That came later during the coaching session. The coaching actually started with trying to overcome rejections, people telling me they weren’t interested and me accepting that as an answer. I was also asked to change the tone I used for the introduction script, as I was far too cheerful and also sounded like a recording. My boss played one of my calls, and it was one where some woman answered the phone with a curt, “What do you want?” I went into the introduction, completely broken out of the tone I had been using.

“You were talking so naturally,” my boss remarked.

“Yeah, because I was scared of her!”

My boss talked about how I could carry on conversations rather well, as he had asked about my umbrella earlier in the day and I was telling him that no, it wasn’t actually a sword even though the handle looked like a katana. I love that umbrella because it always sparks a conversation or at least catches someone’s glance.

But the meeting wasn’t entirely me being told what to do or what I was doing wrong. If I had questions, I asked them. Sometimes I asked if I was doing something right, or if it was acceptable at all. Sometimes if I was given advice, I would slightly question that advice or explain why I was doing things my way, because I was looking to understand the methods used instead of just blindly doing things a certain way.

I walked out of that coaching session feeling pretty good about things. Better still, I applied some of the advice I had been given, and I noticed an improvement in my metrics, my number of completed surveys per hour.

So understandably, I was sad when work dried up because I’m not working there now. I feel like things had just begun, you know? I was honing my skills, and now I have to see where I’ll be going next.

But I was coachable. And it worked out well.

There is another side to this. Not that there was a time when I wasn’t coachable, although I’m sure I’ve had stubborn moments when I just didn’t understand what I should have done and then didn’t change.

I had one job where my immediate supervisor actually refused to talk to me.

I couldn’t understand why I wasn’t getting a uniform shirt. Someone said I had to “earn” the shirt, but no one told me what I needed to do to earn it. My first shirt was a pink shirt, for breast cancer awareness month, which meant I still needed the regular blue shirt by the end of the month, but it was a start and I wouldn’t need to wear my own shirt anymore. When I got my name tag, my first name was split, and below that it said “Media” while everyone else in my department had a name tag that said “Media Specialist.” After a year, I was no longer on the schedule, despite my willingness to pick up extra shifts when people couldn’t work when they were scheduled. I knew exactly who my immediate supervisor was, and we were rarely scheduled at the same time, but when I did see him, he was always too busy to talk to me. So I never knew what, if anything, I was doing wrong. All I knew was I wasn’t getting the best treatment, but I stuck with it because I thought things could improve or that I could show that I’m actually a decent employee.

Of the four points I mentioned, while I agree with all of them, I think being coachable is so often overlooked and forgotten. I think people get into this mindset of doing things how they want to do them, or they might do their own research to see how to improve, but I don’t think people actually invest the time to talk to others who could point out their flaws and how to change. Even if a person allows someone else to tell them what needs to change, I don’t think enough people actually try to understand what’s being said, they might think they know the advice they’re being given but they don’t know how to apply it or how to change.

And also, write down your dreams. I think I’m going to go do that now. Oh wait, isn’t that why I have a blog?

Alone With My Supervisor And Coffee

One of my supervisors at work is a lot of fun to be around. At first, I knew I was just more comfortable around him but didn’t seem to have a reason why, nor did I need a reason. When I noticed his computer wallpaper was of the Pokemon Mew, and he talked about some of his geeky interests, I realized we had similar interests, and that was probably one of the reasons why I got along well with him.

When he was building interest for a project that was based on the west coast, I volunteered to be one of the people to work on that project. It guaranteed that I would have something to do with the company beyond the project I was hired to work on, so my motivation was that job security. Not to mention, because of the difference in time zones, I would be working later hours, which didn’t bother me because I was usually awake during that time anyway.

That project had five people volunteer to work on it, four people who could commit to the schedule, and three of us who did most of the work. It wasn’t as large of a project as the two other projects I’ve been working on, with about a third of the number of call lists, and each list being about one-seventh as long as the other lists I was used to working with. Even with two or three of us making the calls per night, we breezed through the lists of phone numbers, and my supervisor was able to get more lists from the client as a result of that. However, one cause of our speediness has been the fact that so many people have hung up on us or not even answered the phone. Because of that, I developed a habit of wasting even less time on those calls because I can tell what the resolution will be, I know the tones for a number that’s not in service, I can tell when an answering machine or a voice mail service is starting.

For whatever reason, either because of scheduling and availability or because of how awesome I am at making at least 60 calls per hour on this project and overcoming objections, I managed to be the only one scheduled for the project last night.

Just me… and my supervisor.

And a pot of coffee.

This is how things start, isn’t it? You get a man and a woman alone in the same room, two people who get along well, have similar interests, all of that. It starts getting late. One thing leads to another. Before you know it, I’m telling you how I’m not his type, and you’re wondering how I know I’m not his type and telling me that I shouldn’t say things like that, that I should be confident. Well, I’m not his type, because before last night, he had already casually remarked that he was gay in front of the whole call center.

It wasn’t even much of a surprise for me. He speaks in that effeminate manner that is usually associated with gay men, but it’s rather subtle and not backed up with flamboyant hand gestures or slang. But it’s not like he figuratively wears his sexuality on a frilly sleeve; he actually dresses like any guy would, wearing plaid button-down shirts when he has to dress more professionally and athletic hoodies when he’s cold or is just dressed more casually. I don’t mean to resort to any stereotypes, however I do know that some people base their “gaydar” on superficial things, like a man’s interest in musicals. And, my supervisor actually prefers the non-musical Disney animated movies like Finding Nemo, if you must know.

It’s not like his sexuality even mattered to me, because it wasn’t something I thought about. It did help, in a sense, to know his sexuality prior to last night, because then I can talk about last night and say, “I know how this sounds, but nothing happened and nothing would have happened.”

But oh, I’m making a big deal out of this, aren’t I?

In a dream I had last night, the earlier events now being a forgotten haze, I was listening to a phone call directed at me, and it was as if I was listening to a voice mail as it was being recorded. I don’t remember everything that was said, but one of the last things that was said that I do remember was something like, “… and I saved that voice mail of you and play it back just to hear your voice.” As that’s being said, my supervisor is ascending the stairs in a stairwell, and he’s the one saying these things as I hear them over the phone. When I see him and he sees me, I’m smiling because it’s so romantic to me to have someone admit the silly things they do because they’ve fallen for a person, and in this case it’s someone who has fallen for me. Once he has climbed the stairs and is in front of me, he kisses me softly on the lips. The rest of the dream was spent not far from him. I was giddy over the idea of having a significant other again. He slightly evolved into Giovanni Ribisi by the time I woke up, but in my defense I was watching Lost In Translation before going to sleep, and they’re both similarly-dressed skinny white boys.

Upon waking, I had to remind myself that my supervisor is gay, that none of that would happen. And yet, it’s something I want to have happen, maybe not with my supervisor, but I like thinking that someone can’t quite get enough of me. It silences the thoughts that are in direct opposition, suggesting that I might be bothering people or they’re really not interested in spending time with me. It reminds me that I’m not the only one who does silly things when the relationship is new, or barely budding, or even just to think that a person might be someone worth keeping around for a while.

So now it seems awkward to do so, but I want to ask for my supervisor’s phone number. I sincerely hope you understand why I would ask for his number, and why my own mind has sabotaged the retrieval of an important bit of information, before I even explain. I want to ask for his phone number as a future reference for job applications, nothing more. Unfortunately I feel like I’m going to overly explain myself upon asking, when even I know I’d question someone’s motives if they had to explain that, “I won’t call or text you, ever, it’s just to use you as a reference for future job applications.”

Special thanks to my mind, for taking a completely innocent, professional experience, and turning it into an awkward situation that I have to deal with in the real world. The idea to write about it all might not have been the most brilliant of ideas, as now it’s possible for my supervisor to find this and things can become even MORE awkward. However, I’m pretty sure that others have had similar experiences, so I have to remind myself that I’m only human and that I need to roll with it. After all, the worst that could happen still isn’t that bad.

My Interview Was Canceled?

My friends received a copy of Fortune magazine, the issue with the Top 100 Companies To Work For. Saturday morning, I was flipping through the pages to see who was on the list.

My former employer, Wegmans, reached number 2 this year. In the past, they’ve been number 1, but they’ve also been other places in the top 10 in previous years. I spent almost 5 years working for Wegmans, the majority of my time spent behind a cash register as a cashier. For the last year of my time there I had health insurance, thanks in part to the Affordable Care Act taking effect, and that also guaranteed me 30-hour schedules each week. Despite being a grocery store, and therefore viewed as not being a “real job” by some people, it was a great place to work and I would have stayed longer if things in my life went differently.

Further down on the list was Delta Airlines, a company with whom I had an upcoming interview. Delta came in at 63 on the list, and was the only airline company to rank in the top 100 at all. I read the article about Delta, which mentioned the kinds of stress and customers I’d have to deal with along with the perks I’d get for working for them. The stress sounded like my average Sunday or holiday, people would complain for something that’s out of my control, and then I’d have to offer an alternative solution that would get them what they want even if it’s not exactly what they originally hoped for. The perks include some of the usual benefits, plus I’d be able to fly for free or at a reduced rate albeit I’d be on standby and could get bumped from the flight I wanted to be on.

That free flight would be worth my time. I’m not sure how often I’d be allowed to fly, but all I needed was one flight, the one that would get me to Japan. If I could work for Delta and get out of debt, then put away a certain amount to get started in Japan, I wouldn’t have to think much about saving money for the flight.

I wasn’t dreaming about the flight as much as I was thinking that I might be able to practice speaking Japanese in rare moments. How many other people working there know even basic Japanese? It might not be something that will come up a lot, but when they do have a Japanese customer or passenger, I would be in demand.

Ultimately, it was a customer service job that involved lifting suitcases, which sounded better than sitting behind a desk without a view. It would be a constant reminder of my goal of traveling, and I would have a better understanding of what I’d face as a passenger before I embark on my first flight.

Yes, that’s correct, I’ve never been on a flight before. And my dream is to spend 21 hours in airports and on airplanes to go halfway around the world. Clearly, I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.

But this job was important to me. The free flight, the possibility of using Japanese, the physical labor involved, and especially getting to be around people, all of these things were reasons why I wanted to work for Delta. I was preparing for the interview ahead of time instead of waiting until the last minute, I got my important documents together in a place where I would have them ready to go on the day of the interview. I did some research on Delta, so I would have some questions to ask about the company and the position. All that was left was to get dressed and head to the airport.

I got an e-mail today. “Your interview has been canceled, and no other interview slots are available at this time.”

I was in disbelief. I checked the e-mail address that the e-mail was sent from, because maybe it was a scam of some sort, maybe someone didn’t want me to go to the interview so they would have a better chance of getting the position. I read the e-mail a second time, even a third time. Do these things even happen?

The obvious reason why this happened would be that Delta filled the position. If that was the case, then it’s bothersome to be hanging on this long, from applying for the position to the digital interview and then to scheduling the face-to-face interview. I felt like I was on a really short list, like I was almost going to be employed again. How do they know if another person is a better candidate, if they just looked better on paper? I feel like I could have been exactly what Delta was looking for, if I had the opportunity to show them.

I have to wonder if recent events didn’t come into play. United Air’s scandal, where a flight was overbooked and a customer was beaten and dragged off the plane, could have easily affected other airlines. In this case, if the Delta flight that the interviewer was going to be on was already overbooked, it’s possible that the interviewer decided to free up their seat so as to not cause another overbooking scandal where people would need to be removed. In order to get the incident off everyone’s minds, there’s not a set date for a future interview so they can see if it snowballs into a bigger issue or if it is going to quietly fade off the radar. At least, that’s my guess as to what happened.

I replied to my cancellation e-mail, letting the person at the other end know I was sorry it was cancelled and that I hoped to interview again. I was curious as to why the interview was cancelled, but I didn’t ask for a reason because I figured I would get a vague response or it would be treated as if I didn’t really need to know.

This was a gamble for me, as I had an interview last week for a company that was willing to hire me on the spot. I was cautious about that, because while the job was a good fit based on my past experiences, it barely seemed like they were looking for skill and more like they were looking for someone with a pulse. I called that company, hoping the position was still available.

Needless to say, I’m desperate for work at the moment, and I shouldn’t have placed all my hopes on one job.  But I’m going to bide my time, because there will be another opening for Delta in the future, and that might be my time to shine.

Interview In Pajamas

I’ve become exceedingly lazy lately. If I can’t apply for a job by doing a quick application on a job board, or if I can’t populate all of the fields by linking my LinkedIn account, I hesitate to fill out the application because it will usually take an hour to complete. I have to constantly refer to my Facebook account to verify when I worked at certain places, and then I have to tweak my résumé to customize it towards whatever company or position I’m applying for. When you’re trying to get your application out to a lot of places in the hopes that at least one company wants to offer you an interview, that means a lot of time is spent just trying to craft the perfect application.

So I thought it was pretty awesome when I only had to submit my résumé for this one job I was applying for recently.

I received an e-mail later that day, or the next day, in response. It said there was a questionnaire that I had to complete. Awesome! Questionnaires usually mean they’re interested in knowing more about you. I spent maybe a half hour or so completing the questionnaire, all of those questions that ask how much you agree or disagree with a statement so as to give them some idea of what kind of employee you would be. At the end, I got a message saying I had passed! That was good news to me, because it would mean an interview was coming up.

I went back to the candidate portal to see if there was anything else I needed to do. Yes, I needed to complete an application. I swear, it felt like I spent at least two hours filling out this application. Not only did the application ask for the usual stuff like work experience and references, but it also asked for things like traffic violations in detail. The only one that I can account for right now is my speeding ticket from two years ago, not long after I got my New Jersey license plates, when I looked like someone who would definitely pay the  New York fines by mail. The joke was on them when I walked into traffic court, because I was still in the process of moving out of my New York home and wasn’t as much of an out-of-towner as they believed. I still paid the fines, because the district attorney wasn’t there and I couldn’t deal with the hassle of going back there again when I had more important things to deal with. But anyway, that was one thing I had to account for in the application.

The section for work history was fun, and by “fun” I mean it was quite useful. I could add as many entries as I needed to, because some of the entries could be used to mark periods of unemployment and to explain the reasons why. It also asked for references to verify why you were unemployed during that time, but for the earlier entries I didn’t name anyone. The only one who could really validate that I was unemployed was my own Mom who I was still living with at the time. Unfortunately we didn’t bury her with her cell phone, since she’d go through her data allowance because the cemetery doesn’t have wifi and she’d be playing Words With Friends all the time. So the company I applied for will just have to take my word for it when I tell them about my periods of unemployment.

After the long, exhausting process of filling out that very detailed application, I sat back and waited. And by waited, I mean I perused YouTube for the usual videos, or I just went about life as normal.

This morning, I got an e-mail about an interview! I was excited! I was wondering when they were going to schedule the interview, or what I would wear. I opened the e-mail, only to read that it was a digital interview. I was confused for a moment. A digital interview? I read the guide that was provided, and found that I would need a webcam and microphone. Oh great, I had to record myself. On the bright side, it means I don’t have to drive anywhere, which is a decent trade-off.

Not to mention, I can do the interview in pajamas, which I did.

I know what you’re thinking. “You had to record yourself, on WEBCAM, and you dressed in pajamas?!” My bottom half was still wearing my pajama pants which I had been wearing all day. My top half was in a shirt that was being borrowed from my friend who didn’t like the pink shirt I had chosen. I won’t admit it, but the shirt she loaned me was a better color on me than the pink shirt. She fixed my hair so it looked like I put some effort into it.

I needed a distraction-free environment. The only way I could do that was in the evening when the kids were in bed, since one of the young ones is suspended for a few days. But that also meant herding cats, like literally herding cats, because the kittens would have been doing parkour off the furniture at best and demanding to be cuddled in my arms at worst. Perhaps a kitten would improve my odds of getting the job, but only if the job was for a pet store or a veterinarian. I also wanted to make sure that my background wasn’t too distracting, so I managed to find a boring wall in the dining room with few decorations.

I started up my computer, which I had to move from the living room, then opened up the webpage for the interview. While I was doing that, I went in to my computer settings and worked with my sound input settings until I had everything in good shape. And then I started the interview.

It felt like any interview I’ve had. I had a limited amount of time to figure out a response to the questions being asked, and then I had to figure out which words in the English language to string together to form the perfect statement that also matched the jumble of thoughts inside my head. I feel like I tripped over my words a few times, coming off as if I’m not as well-spoken as some. I feel like I gave decent responses, assuming I’m not up against someone who rescued orphans from a burning building, at which point my responses are basically saying that I went to work and came home at the end of the day.

Maybe ten or fifteen minutes later, I was done with the interview. That meant putting things back where they belonged, making myself less pretty, and kicking myself because my confidence dropped out after the interview was done.

It was a nice alternative to sitting in front of people face-to-face, and I liked the convenience that also came along with doing the interview whenever I could. The only issue I really had was that I’m not completely comfortable sitting in front of the camera while recording myself. Sure, I can record myself without too much of an issue, but I’m always looking at my image on the screen to make sure I don’t look too weird. I did have the option of turning off the video feed so I didn’t have to watch myself, but if I did that, I would wonder if I looked decent. Overall, I do think more companies should offer digital interviews, even if it’s just used as an option for some who might be too busy to make the time during normal work hours.

But now I wait and hope for the best. Okay, I really hope I get this job, because it ties in loosely with me learning Japanese, and I can see how I might need to speak the language if only in rare moments. Beyond that, the job can help me get to Japan in two different ways, the first and obvious way being the income I’ll receive. I just have to be patient, though. If this is a good thing, it will come in time.

Stroke Of Perfection

I’m ashamed of myself.

I’ve been adding entries here about two or three times a week. In addition to that, I post text-based status updates on Facebook. Some days I work on that novel I tell myself I’m actually going to finish, because it’s important to me so I must finish it and make it a good novel.

I applied for a data entry position, and was asked to complete an assessment which measured my keystrokes per hour. How hard could it be? I’m used to sitting here on the couch, my legs crossed in some fashion, the keyboard resting on my legs, the mouse beside my leg.

I finished the assessment with 100% accuracy and a score of 7008 keystrokes per minute. Okay, that sounds good, right? I’m used to typing scores being in WPM, or words per minute, so I went to the Google to see how I did.

My typing skills are below average.

8,000 is considered to be an average score, with 10,000 keystrokes per hour being decent. 7,008 keystrokes per hour is roughly 23 words per minute, which is average but a bit slow.

Now wait, I did say I had 100% accuracy. I’m a bit of a perfectionist at times, which is all the more frustrating when I can’t actually make things perfect. Yes, I used the backspace key so many times during that assessment, I probably lost more time than I would’ve lost score-wise. I don’t know if they’re monitoring every keystroke, but I’m sure something is to be said about my accuracy versus my speed.

It’s definitely a higher speed than, say, someone who’s nearsighted and henpecking with one finger. I have that going for me, that I know basic keyboarding skills, even if I don’t always apply them. I know how to find the home keys without looking at them. I did take a typing class in high school, and since then my typing is somewhere between secretarial and pianist: secretarial for knowing where the keys are, and pianist because I feel like my hands move all over the keyboard (I tend to just use the index and middle fingers of each hand, occasionally using the ring fingers, and it’s not proper in the least).

I’m really just typing this for my own benefit, so I can be a little more conscious as I type of how I type. I find the typing comes easier when the content is coming directly from my head, so this is flowing easier than the typing test. If I had a timer going for this entry, the speed would easily be doubled, and I notice I’m also using the backspace key far less.

I wonder if I can re-take the test. It went to my job recruiter, and I really want and need that job.

Workplace Awards

I feel like I’ve filled out more job applications in the past two years than I ever have before, and that’s despite the fact that I’ve actually been employed twice in that time. I’m at the point where I dread having to fill out an application by hand because there’s no way to populate the fields from my résumé or from another website where I’ve entered all of my career information. It’s about as redundant to me as small talk on a dating website, but at least there’s the promise of being paid if the job application leads somewhere.

One of my biggest peeves is when there’s a space to fill in any awards or accomplishments while at a particular job.

I realize there are jobs out there that actually celebrate good performances, so being a hard-worker sometimes pays off and sometimes it’s good luck. If you put in more time and effort than your peers who skip out five minutes early every day, you deserve an award. If you manage to get the most sales, you deserve an award. If you’re the reason why people keep coming back and it’s not because you did something wrong, you deserve an award.

However, if you got the most sales, it’s not always because you were skillful at closing a sale. It’s possible to be fortunate enough to get people who weren’t going to refuse your service and needed what your company offers. It’s possible that the ones on the low end keep getting customers who are on the fence and wouldn’t have closed a sale even if the best salesperson was speaking with them. The people with the fewest sales might just need to understand that they are doing something wrong, and what it is, and sometimes it takes the right person using the right words to get that message through to the struggling salesperson.

And then you have managers. Not all managers are blessed with a skilled team, and some can’t see the faults of their subordinates or know how to properly educate them to do better. Some businesses congratulate a well-performing team from time to time, but I haven’t heard of any company that evaluates why other teams were underperforming.

I don’t have any awards that I can put on a résumé. I could probably brag about getting a “kudos” when a customer said I did a good job back in 2005. However, that’s one customer out of hundreds that I’ve dealt with in the past 12 years. That’s not to say that I don’t have a few more satisfied customers, just that only one has spoken to a supervisor about me and it’s been put in writing that I was awesome. One customer isn’t much to write home about, so I don’t mention it.

I don’t even try to get awards. If I’m good, I’ll achieve something, but if I try, I’ll stress myself out and disappoint myself when I fail. So I go to work, I clock in, I do what I must, and then I go home.

What about the days when I’m not even up to my regular standards? I’ve gone to work while ill, when I had a bacterial infection in my respiratory system and couldn’t walk to the back of the store without being out of breath by the time I got there. I’ve gone to work with bronchitis, when my bosses wouldn’t let me take any more days off and I have to take phone calls in a call center when I don’t even have a voice. I’ve worked while I’ve had a parent in the hospital on their death bed, when a part of me has wanted to be by their side but another part reminded me that I needed the money and I convinced myself that I might be able to get my mind off of things if I kept busy. Of course, there’s no awards for going to work when you’re not up to snuff, when you’re physically and emotionally drained. The Center for Disease Control would love it if you avoided people while you’re ill, but your bosses always want to keep your seat warm and will be willing to replace you. And no one cares if your parents are dying, but you can get time off once they’ve passed.

So my job application probably looks like most of the other applications being submitted. Then again, maybe I’m the only one without any awards to her name. I don’t actually mind, because maybe I wasn’t in the right place to get an award, or on the right team to develop my skills to one day achieve something great. That’s not to say I don’t already have the right skills, just that I wasn’t in the right place or had the perfect opportunity to use what skills I do have. While I’m looking for that perfect opportunity, I’m definitely building my job application skills. It’s a shame that those skills only pay off when I land a job.