Breathing is Important, I Hear

So, I have a job interview. Well, two actually, but one is Monday and one is a week and a half away, so I'm going to hyperventilate over one of these at a time. Pace myself. Give my adrenal glands a break.

It's only a part-time position, thirty hours, but I am so tired of having nothing to do. Having unlimited free time is really boring - and stressful. Which is weird, because really what do I have to stress about? Which is what I think annoys me the most. I get all panicky because I'm not doing anything... and there's no reason to be stressed. I need logic for my emotions. This, of course, stresses me out even more. It's been a viciously circular month in my head.

Anyway, Job #1 is in a library at a community college. The job itself doesn't have me worried, I can libraratize like no one's buisness, but the interview is not going to be pretty. I don't do well in conversations. Then again, the woman already had to put up with my abysmal phone skills and still wants to interview me, so maybe there's hope here. I am very much not exaggerating here. I wish I was. But the rudiments of conversation are so darn hard. Like, when you're setting up a time, how do you wrangle around to a time within two minutes? I'm sure it's possible. Yet, I always wind up spending an eternity trying to strike a balance between convincing the interviewer that my schedule is open for her convenience and making random guesses at a good time after I've already basically told her I have no life, so pick a time she can fit me in and I'll show up. Also, how do you hang up? I say 'thank you,' then he says 'thank you,' and then there's dead air. Should I say 'goodbye?' That seems abrupt coming from a prospective employee, shouldn't he end it since he's the one who called? All this runs through my head during a phone call. At the end, I'm left with sweaty palms and the vague feeling that I said something idiotic, but I'm not sure what exactly.

It gets worse in person. Because then I'm trying to figure out what they want in an employee and how I can look like that. Also, how not to say anything dumb. The job I can do, the interview for the job might kill me. I tell myself that I cannot be the only person who feels this way. The only way I can do this is by assuming everyone else is making all the same mistakes and puffing into paper bags in their cars as well. Hopefully they're also consuming fudge by the quarter-pound. I hate to gain weight alone.

Death to Quality

So, at what point can I legitimately panic about not having a job yet? I graduated Friday - is now too soon? Too late? Was my panic in April spot-on? Should I concentrate on job-panic and not on the appropriateness on said job-panic?

So I graduated.

It's all official: the President of the University, the Dean of the College of Arts & Sciences, and the Dean of the English Department are all very certain that I am indeed fully qualified and very ready to be out facing the Real World of which I've heard so many tales. I am not fully convinced, but that doesn't seem to matter much in the great scheme of things.

Thus, here I am - updating after a long, long break - frantically applying to jobs and hoping that somewhere along the line quantity really does matter and eventually people will get tired of seeing my name and hire me somewhere just to get me out of the job hunting sphere. I can see that glorious moment in my mind:

"Sir, sir. I've another application. It's that Sunny person again."
"Good God, not another one. Look, is there something, anything we can stick her in? I'm going to have a seizure if I have to read her resume one more time."
"Well... there's this. It's a position where...."
"Great, whatever. Give it to her. And shred that resume when you're done. Then burn it. Then douse the ashes in Holy Water and bury them in another country. I swear they resurrect themselves and multiply when no one is looking."
"Um... yes, sir."

That, my friends, is how I will get a job. Is it noble? No. Is it dignified? No. Is it any reflection upon my abilities or qualifications? No. Until someone tells me how to find a job any other way, however, I am going to be out in the Real World - annoying for my livelihood.

Wish me luck!

Any Port

Sadly my Spring Break is almost over. Especially sad because now I have to do all the research for the long papers that I've been putting off. If I research for them, it means I then have to actually write them. My desire is not that strong to begin research.

Still, I did get to go shopping over Spring Break! This amazing thrift store is close by, so I stopped in on my day off to browse. I don't use the word 'amazing' lightly here. Not only is the store seperated by type of garment and then size of garment, but also by color. Are you looking for a medium green blouse? Why, then, you should go to the blouse-medium-green section and take your pick! It's an OCD dream, I swear. I picked up several pieces for interviewing outfits to calm some of my panic at the idea of venturing into the Real World. I now own suit jackets. I feel so grownup.

I have made one monumentous decision aobut my future. I'm moving to Portland. The one in Oregon, if you're not like me and actually know that there's one in Maine as well. Apartment hunting has been so much easier since I realised that fact.

What am I going to do in Portland, you ask? Good question! I'm asking it too. I have no idea. Hence the panic. Which led to the suit jackets. More of a lateral move than a forward one, I suspect.

Despite almost having a degree in English, I have the nagging suspicion that there just aren't that many jobs that need me. I don't want to teach and I can't be a librarian without a master's degree, so I'm out of ideas.

Anyone need someone in Portland? Bookstore, coffee shop, ditch digger?

(Seriously, I've got skills with a shovel.)
(Well, maybe not seriously seriously, alright?)
(Unless you need a shovel-wielder, then totally seriously.)
(Seriously.)

Snow and Stuff (WOL)

Career Planning is becoming my least favorite class of all time. It's not hard or anything, it's just that I sit there for an hour three times a week and try not to visibly panic about my future. Everyday job hunting seems to grow into a bigger and bigger monster - pretty soon he's going to invade my nightmares!

But I will try to Not Panic. Try, being the operative word here.

The rain yesterday turned into sleet and then snow. The world looks like some silly fairy tripped along and threw a layer of soft whiteness over everything by accident. I'm willing to be so generous with my description now that I'm safely back in the warmth of my house. Yesterday, after I deiced my car to get groceries there were several other descriptors used that revolved more about demonic forces than fairies. It's already melting, though, and I think by this afternoon it will all be vanished and leave us wondering if we made up the wintry morning out of our under-caffeinated heads.

My parents, lovable as they always are, mailed me a package that contained a jor of my Uncle JD's popcorn and a contraption called a 'whirly-pop.' No, I am not making that up. You put the pan on the stove, add oil and corn, then attach this strange-looking torture device to the top. Once it starts popping, you turn this handle until the popping stops and - like magic! - delicious popcorn. Yum, popcorn. With salt, lots and lots of salt. It made for a very good dinner.

Yay February! Let's hope it's a good month - we even get an extra day of it!