Popular 1:1 Traffic Exchange

Wednesday, December 30, 2009

Scraping the bottom of the barrel

We all have a point at which we survey our situation and realize that we've pretty much hit bottom. True enough, I'm not giving wristies out behind the local 7-11 yet, but I am doing the cyberspace employment search equivalent and searching the Craigslist employment ads.

Generally speaking, there are two types of ads on Craigslist. The jobs that promise you can nap all day on company time for which they will pay you $50K/year or the jobs that want you to pretty much run the company AND scrub the owner's balls (preferably with your tongue) for minimum wage.

I have come to believe that Craigslist job ads are some sort of Psych 101 test designed by a teaching assistant whose favorite prof has started buffing the undercarriage of a new TA whilst relentlessly teasing the TA who is being cast aside. That and it is a phisherperson's paradise. "Hey, do you think if we tell the applicant that we need to run a "consumer report" that they'll e-mail us a copy of their ID and Social Security Card?" (Yes, this has ACTUALLY HAPPENED. I responded to a job ad and they emailed back that they wanted to have a copy of my ID plus a copy of my Social Security card PLUS my banking information (for direct deposit, ya know).

I may have been born at night, but it wasn't LAST night, honey and I didn't fall on my head when I fell off the turnip truck.

Let's face it, with a resume of career catastrophe's like mine, I really need to find a place that I can stay a few years and at least have the appearance of being a "lifer" for some company. It would be really nice (and I know this is wholly unrealistic) if the place were not a holding pen for drama llamas and highschoolish cliques. And being paid more than tiny monies for the privilege of tonguewashing someone's balls would be a super bonus.

I'll be honest with you... Ms. Cleo is getting damn tired of the whole job hunting thing. I spend enough time on the computer that wristies behind the 7-11 is only going to hasten the inevitable carpal tunnel and I refuse to do hummers on unwrapped candy canes because most dudes do not find the safety goggles to prevent bodily fluids being liberated into my eyes a real sexy look (although, Rule 34 does apply and some guys dig that look).

Thinkin' it is likely time for bed.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

Unemployed Holiday Spirit

As tempting as it is to completely "BAH HUMBUG" this holiday season, I am going to share a little something that made my holiday season brighter.

Have yourselves a Happy Holiday Season. I'm gonna kick back and have some 'nog. I'll hit the boards again on Monday.

Monday, December 21, 2009

Yes, I'm STILL unemployed

Oh, my friends, what frustration. I'm STILL frakkin' unemployed. And it gets worse.

I recently was submitted for a contract job, got through the phone interview, got a face-to-face interview and FUCKING BLEW IT! For the first time ever, I didn't get a contract job I interviewed for. But, ok, it would have been close. It would have been convenient. And I would have hated it. Oh, I'd have been GOOD at it, but I would have hated it because it involved a whole bunch of reporting what manager-people want to hear whether or not it is reflective of reality. Look managers, put on your big-kid undies and deal with the truth, ok?

Soooo.... I also interviewed for another job which is a job I am thinking I'd really dig and there are actually BENEFITS and they are pretty decent and the job isn't too hard but there is room for advancement and they promote people and everything. Honestly, though, I'd go and entrench myself and not move for ANYBODY for a while. One teeny, tiny, infinitesimal problem. I need a car for the job and guess what Ms. Cleo doesn't have right now and can't get? If you said "a car", you'd be spot on. And unless I figure out a way to miraculously make myself attractive enough to turn tricks behind the bodega 22 hours a day for the next few weeks, if they offer me that job, I have to turn it down. And so, my first job offer in THREE MONTHS, would go right in the shitter. (And YES, I would need to be more attractive than I am because we have some pretty classy looking working girls out here in the 'hood).

Yeah, sucks to be me, eh? (Since when did I become Canadian? What's up with the "eh?", eh?)

The classified ads have become a nightmare... I slog through the 47 (I counted) ads that I am qualified for but cannot get to, the 23 jobs that I know I could do but they're convinced you need a degree to do, to the 12 jobs that I am qualified (or overqualified) to do that each require an hour long application (which is why Ms. Cleo is up at 2:30 in the frakkin' morning) and they want to know if the carpet matches the drapes, have you ever had an anal probe (by aliens or otherwise), and can you suck the chrome off a Harley with or without a flexy straw...? To which I reply, ummm, I installed linoleum, not that I recall since I fondled the Men in Black and you better believe it! The exciting find tonight is that the Federal Reserve is looking for people so there is a faint hope that I could find myself ass deep in shredded monies but it's a government job so I could go there and get moved to an "office" in the basement where I could grow old(er) and (more) bitter. It'd be an ideal setup, really.

But, the clock is ticking and it's looking pretty grim because Ms. Cleo is (in all seriousness) going to end up eating Pizza Rolls for Xmas dinner because she had no money to go shopping (and no way to get to the grocery store) and I'll be washing clothes in the tub again this week because I can't afford to do laundry and the bill collectors are gonna start sending Guido around pretty quick here and it's hard to give a decent hummer when you have broken kneecaps (but I suppose it IS conducive to some epic teabagging...)

If any of you have Santa's ear, tell the jolly ol' elf that Ms. Cleo needs a hookup with a ride. Hell, I'd rent one of those flyin' reindeer for the off season if it's cool with ol Santa!

Happy Holidays to you and yours!

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Playin' the Game

Today was an interesting day.

Recruiter #1 calls. Has a $tiny monies an hour job (she sent me the job description... the scope of the work they want done is a $tiny monies + 5-$tiny monies + 7 an hour job, minimum). I tell her I'm not really interested. I hang up. I panic. Because $tiny monies an hour is $tinymonies an hour more than I'm making. But it's a contract. 6 months. 45 minute drive away. But, $tiny monies an hour is $tiny monies an hour more than I'm making. I call back. I talk her up to $tiny monies +2 an hour (grudgingly, but it's still a pretty substantial pay cut and I haven't worked for so little since 2002). I'm willing to bet the employer is going to tell her I'm not worth it.

Moving on... Recruiter #2 calls. She got my resume from a colleague. For the life of me, I can't remember if recruiter #2 even told me her name (bad sign). Recruiter #2 has a job that actually pays decently. Still in the same far away location but it'd be a "real" job. And then the "zingers" came at me... "Well, I'm a little concerned that none of the places you've done contract work have wanted to bring you onboard...." I was hired to cover specific workloads. Once the overwhelming deluge of work was done, they didn't need the extra help anymore. There was never even the HINT that there would be something more for me at these jobs. And then she mentioned something about possibly interviewing tomorrow and I asked to know if that was a sure thing because I'd make sure to have the vehicle tomorrow and out comes "Oh, so you're going to have transportation issues...?" No. No transportation issues. For the five years that my situation has been what it is, I've never had transportation issues.

She promised to call and let me know by 4:00PM. No call and it's now WAAAY past 4PM. Nonetheless, I have made arrangements to have the vehicle at my disposal. So when she calls at the last minute, my happy ass will be prepared and RecruiterLady will be all surprised.

I've played this game, lady. I'm sure I'll play it again. But, I'm very good at it. I'll cover my bases, you make your move. But don't for a minute think that I am not aware of what you're doing. What I can't figure out is WHY you're doing it.

I am, at this point, sortve betting that I won't hear from her again. I won't be surprised. Why do I say that? The person she got my resume from promised to get back to me in the next day or two over two weeks ago. I finally ended up emailing him and getting told that the hiring company had decided to interview other people. Well, dandy... could you have taken 3 minutes and sent me an email saying "they don't want you"? Why, oh why, is that so hard?

In any case... I've got my game face on...so let's rumble!

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

The times they are... crazy

I was recently discussing with someone who is fortunate enough to not need to bother with things like the job market that the "new thing" for employers is that even if you will never handle a dime of their money, they make you sign a waiver so that they can pull your credit report. Allegedly, if you are a deadbeat who can't pay your bills, you won't make a good employee. Which I don't understand because if someone gets laid off from their job unexpectedly and therefore has no income and can't pay their bills while they are desperately scrambling to become re-employed and then they happen to get behind on their payments (as is wont to happen when one has no income) then I would think that the defaulted credit would mean that the person would be motivated to get a job and make a good salary so that they can get things back on track. (And I realize that thinking that way is precisely why I have zero management potential).

Anyhow, the person couldn't believe that employers are doing that and I had to interject that with the market the way it is right now, an employer could say "I have a job for the first two people who will submit to a full body cavity search and a genital piercing of my whim" and people would be lined up for a mile AND bring their own latex gloves and dull, rusty needle for the piercing. And they would SMILE while Mr. Employer was elbow deep in their orifices and jabbing them with pointy metal objects and BEG for the opportunity to buff his balls to a deep shine.

Not only do they do credit checking but they do "comprehensive background checks" which include calling up your second grade teacher to inquire as to whether you ever kicked your nasty paste-eating habit, your clergyperson to find out how your church attendance has been for the last two decades and your drycleaner to make sure you never bring in clothing with questionable stains. There is also the drug screen, criminal background check and the unrelenting search for someone (usually an in-law fits the bill here) who will say you are a layabout who will never amount to anything and that's when you're not drunk by noon and jacked up on Mountain Dew, hookers and blow.

Whatever it is that it takes to get a job these days (the ability to suck start a Harley and modeling your Vicky's Secret lingerie whilst bent over an office copier probably doesn't hurt) I sure as hell don't seem to have it. I'd be willing to invest in a wonderbra and a set of kneepads if I thought it would help but it would be my luck to start getting interviews with cougars who haven't gotten desperate enough to consider batting for the other team once I made the investment.

Sending good vibes to all my fellow job seekers. That way you'll have goofy smiles on your faces and I'll sneak in and nab the jobs! (I jest) Take care in these crazy times!