I made plans to go to a Monday meeting, with the intent of “running into” Just-In-Case. Partly because when I actually ran into him a few weeks ago, he told me I should. In anticipation of this (and also, just because I felt like it) I fixed my hair and dressed all nice. I wore this shirt, because Keithers described the color (Fantasia Blue) as “I want to have sex with that.” I recieved several compliments.

Just-In-Case, was of course, not there this Monday. Typical. At least my hair still looks pretty today.

The days are dragging this week. I feel like Toni Collette in Clockwatchers, which is a wonderful and very underrated little film. The movie was made in 1997, so while the internet existed (we had it at my house. My family had internet before Al Gore, probably) it certainly hadn’t infiltrated every aspect of the workplace like it does today. There’s one line in it

Sometimes it hits you how quickly the present fades into the past, and you question everything around you. You wonder if anything you’d ever do would matter.

Which pretty much sums up what I feel some days. I was driving to work this morning and it’s already almost March. 2009 was the year of Just Surviving. Last March, I said that I knew it was going to be hard, that “this year” was going to be really, really, really hard but that I would get through it. And now I have, and it’s like “ok, what next?” and while I clearly have some ideas of what I want for “what’s next,” the present is speeding away as I try to make the future happen.

This is quickly veering towards angsty-existential crises territory, where it seems to go a lot these days. I think back on when I was temping, at this time, five years ago. Sure I’m older and wiser, but I am so jealous of my 22 year old self sometimes. And then I remember what it was like trying to get a job just out of college, practically having to beg someone to give me a chance, and well no, I’m not jealous of that, but then again, is it really that different from what I’m doing now? That I’m offering to answer phones and make copies for an abysmal salary just so I can finally work somewhere that I feel relevant?

That was a major run on sentence.

I guess part of it is that deep down there is still this fear, that maybe This Is It. That all I am ever going to be is a glorified secretary. And while that’s not the worst of fates (or pays) it’s certainly not what I ever wanted or imagined for myself. Maybe I just Don’t Have What It Takes. To do what, exactly, I’m not sure, but for now I use the sentiment broadly. It seems entirely possible that it isn’t going to matter how many carefully crafted cover letters I send out or how smart I am, or how capable I am of doing any of these jobs; I might never get one because of all that is still missing from my resume. And maybe, it’s missing from my resume, not because I choose wrong or differently, but because I am just not the type of person who saw those chances, or opportunities in the first place. David is always pointed out that every ponderance of “what would have been if I had taken another path” requires you to question whether you, being the type of person you are, could have done anything different anyway.

This started out as a lighthearted post. I swear.

It’s funny how doubt hides itself. It follows behind you. It waits in every corner. You never see it coming. But you feel it, on the inside. Maybe it was just that office. Or maybe it was bigger than that, it was all around. A million eyes. Watching. Judging. The whole wide world even. You feel so small.

-Clockwatchers

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Points if you get where my post title is from without googling.

I feel the need to clarify something from yesterdays post (she says, defensively). Much of my woe is coming from the fact that I can’t even get an admin assistant position in the field that I want to be in. Two commenters pointed out that this is the way to go if I’m serious about DC (and they are right) but I have applied for admin positions at every foreign policy, or foreign policy related think tank in DC.  As well as various other interesting places.

There are a number of places where I want to work where I don’t care what the job is – I just want to work there! These positions pay about half of what I’m making now, but I’d manage. Someone just has to hire me first. My fear is that in order to move to DC I’ll have to take another legal assistant job (or worse) which isn’t really my field and I’ll just get trapped in it because all my experience on paper is in it.

The other thing V and I were lamenting is “entry level” is both a misnomer and a double-edged sword. For example, these positions will claim to be “entry level” and they will pay entry level wages, but then they will ask for three years experience and in the end it’s basically an admin position. On the other end,  I have been viewed as “too experienced” for entry level. The number of times my snobby Masters degree has raised the eyebrows (and not in a good way) of the hiring person is astounding. They question why I’m applying to an “assistant” position and they question why I’ve been working in as an assistant.

Existential crises aside, do these people not understand having bills to pay? I’ve been at my current job for a year and a half. A year and a half ago, I was running out of unemployment and I couldn’t afford to shop around for the perfect job. Now that I’ve built up some savings (and I have the luxury of looking while employed) I can be choosier. But my experience, particularly my type of experience, is generally looked down upon.

I know that this all sounds defeatist and terribly know-it-all-ish. Who am I to claim that I know the workings of a hiring manager’s mind? I could be projecting, right? Thing is, I truly feel I’m being pragmatic and realistic with all of the above, and that if I let myself think otherwise then I’m being delusional.

Which perhaps is another puzzle. I believe I experienced this when I was job hunting immediately post-college. That is when I was interviewing for every receptionist/assistant position in NYC. Including one at a glue factory way the hell out in Brooklyn (seriously, it was a looooong ride on the R train) staffed solely by Orthodox Jew.

That was an awkward interview.

On the plus side I put $500 in my savings account this paycheck. On the negative side, I spent an obscene amount of money on clothing. On the plus side, I will be returning a large percentage of it, so no harm done. Mostly.

Now, to get a job in DC, so I have a place to wear all my cute clothes. Suburban Jersey + no dress code at work means I’m wearing jeans and plain sweaters everywhere.

One of the main reasons I haven’t wanted to get all angsty about the Great-DC-Job-Search (other than the fact that whining is not an attractive quality) is that I don’t want to listen to people tell me that I’m being fatalistic, or that I CAN do it, or making suggestions about what I should try.

Here are the facts: I never had a fancy (unpaid) DC internship when I was in college. I could have one summer, but it would have involved paying for houses and not making any money. I chose instead to go home for the summer and work. There were lots of factors involved in that decision, and at the time, I wouldn’t have been happy in DC, but I am paying for it now. I have NO DC experience, and this is somehow relevant even for non-Hill jobs (I don’t want to work on the Hill). The Libertarian Fellowship was so important to me because it was a back door into DC. A shortcut, so to speak. I knew that the chances of me getting a job in DC the old-fashioned way were/are very slim and that that fellowship would have given me an in.

The other thing is the type of experience I have. I have a Masters degree from a very good university, where I also worekd as a research assistant. But my resume also evidences that I’ve been a glorified (and at times, not even glorified) secretary since college. I was lamenting this with Virginia, a girl who graduated a year before me; job postings want you to have 3 years of experience, and the only experience you can get is admin work, and then that’s not good enough.

Do you know what I would have done, as an intern, in DC? I would have made copies and filed and answered phones. Yes, I recognize that location is everything and there’s more to it than just the clerical aspect. But I hate that that looks more important on paper than what I do now (and I do all those things and a whole hell of a lot more). I hate that my only option is a lateral move into another admin position – that that is my only hope of getting into DC, and that is still a small chance.

I don’t want to hear about how I just have to be patient and try and whatever (yes, I know I sound whiny) because these are not the off-the-cuff ramblings of a frustrated job searcher. These are just the facts. They are something that I have been painfully aware of for a long time. To an extent, this knowledge may have kept me from job hunting in DC in the past – fear of rejection/failure and all. I know the odds and they are not good. Add in the recession and they slip to sub-zero.

So I don’ t exactly know what to do. My motivation is sapped. Writing another cheery cover letter makes me want to stab my eyes out. I know that everyone searching for a job must feel the same way. It’s a disheartening process, to see these jobs that I would be perfect for and not get a resposne to my carefully crafted applications. And then I read the barrage of job hunting advice that’s on the internet about networking and promoting yourself and finding your job through twitter (and how you’ll never find a job the traditional way, not in this world) and it’s even more confusing about what to do.  What am I supposed to do? Blog incessently on my RealName wordpress account (I don’t use it, I just snatched up the name) about the places I want to work and why they should hire me? Because I do have 2-3 places in mind that I would LOVE to work.

I don’t know. I know that my frustrations are the same as almost everyone going through the job hunt. But I feel so trapped. I feel that the decisions I made five years ago are haunting me now and that this is my life. A future something great destined to spend her life answering phones and ordering office supplies. I like my job and for the most part I do way more than that, and there is nothing inherently wrong with those things.

But I want to be something other than a glorified secretary. I don’t want to have to answer someone else’s phone. That’s my dream. Right there.

The utter laziness of this weekend (in which I did not even do laundry) disgusts me. Occasionally the sloth-ness of my existences gets to me and I spend Monday feeling icky about my hardcore indulgence in one of the seven deadly sins. I am hoping to rectify this by doing my laundry tonight and perhaps straightening my room, but the number of hours I spend sitting on my bed with my laptop is really obscene.

I’m getting punchy. Maybe I would also feel better if I cleaned my desk, but instead I am choosing to whine unattractively.

It’s not that I hate the person I am now. I’m ok with her, the girl who has developed an unhealthy West Wing (or more accurately Josh/Donna) obsession, the girl who reloads her email every 90 seconds, the girl who eats far too many of these delicious crispy pretzel-cracker things. She is better off than the person I was a year ago, even if I have to refer to her in third person. But sometimes, I am just so sick of her, and she is so sick of her surroundings, and we are so impatient for it not to be this way.

I know of all the suggestons and solutions , the if you don’t like where you are or what you’re doing then it is up to you to change that. I’m working on that, I am – the Libertarian fellowship was certainly a huge part of that. But it’s a slow process and it feels like a lot of hurry up and wait and go nowhere fast, and so for now I’m just stuck being the girl I am now, who has nowhere to wear all her pretty new one-size smaller clothes.

In April, I will have been in suburbia for two years, when it was supposed to be for a few months. In May, I will be 27, and before I know it, another summer will speed by. Time is going to fast and I’m not keeping up with it, and while I’m doing as much as I can to find a way to get to a place where I want to be, there are only so many avenues and outlets. There’s a recession, there’s reality, and there’s logistics.

I didn’t mean for this to turn into such an existential angst fest, but my whining should be recorded. For posterity’s sake.

I went to the diner with Joe this afternoon to help him with Grad School admissions essays – physics majors don’t do a lot of writing.

After we went over his essays, we slipped into our usual conversation of what we’re trying to do, the escape we trying to make, and what our two mutual friends are doing along those lines. For all the differences we have on paper, we’re in a remarkably similar place. (Still stuck, for those playing at home)

As we were leaving, and I was talking about my weekend in DC, I admitted that a tiny part of me was fearful of running into The Ex in Georgetown. And I was being SUCH a girl, running over in my head whether I look better or worse than the last time I saw him – which was over five years ago now. In the “worse” column was the weight gain. In the “better” column was more put together.

“And,” Joe added. “You’re just hitting your stride. There’s always something attractive about that.”

I know what he means. I’ve said it myself before – that confidence is hot, and the first rule of confidence is faking it. But hitting my stride? I wouldn’t go that for. The Libertarian Fellowship is an attempt to get back into my stride, and my success thus far in the interview process has helped push that along, but there are still 3-5 rounds to go, and if I fail, I’m back to where I started.

It’s out of my hands now. All I can do is wait until mid-January, make another trip to DC, and impress 3-5 more rounds of people. Simple, right?

I am listening to my iPod, Just Because. Due to Jill-IAN’s influence I have plenty of Gin Blossoms. (As Long As It Matters will be in the my head the rest of the day). One of our favorites was of course “Hey Jealousy,” the Gin Blossoms song that everyone our age probably knows. When I was in high school, that used to be my “I’m mad at my boyfriend” song. It was only in the last couple years when I realized just how much I had been misinterpreting the lyrics, and also, how pathetically relevant it was to some of my MOs.  Oops.

(I just love talking about the relevance of song lyrics, like a 16 year old)

Today will likely be a busy day, which is good for distraction purposes, but then at the end of the day, I am still left without an answer from Libertarian Fellowship, and what good has distraction done me? Last night, I was hanging out with Jon and he was encouraging me to think positively. Which perhaps I should, because I DO have the credentials for this, and, as I put it last night “I have a Masters Degree from the University of fucking-Chicago! They better accept me!”

Yes. That. Before I went to grad school, whenever I would start getting mopey or negative about anything, my friend CK would remind me “You are going to University of Chicago. University of fucking Chicago. Fuck Everything Else.”

Which was generally good advice and my snobby Masters Degree has generally served me well. But I don’t know if that’s powerful enough to overcome my phone awkwardness. Few things are, probably.

The only thing on my mind is the Libertarian Fellowship. All I have been doing it reloading my email and angsting to my friends via email about it. I said to Brent yesterday “I really have nothing to say that isn’t obsessing over the libertarians. I am completely uninteresting in that respect. (waits for you to point out that this is actually in all respects)”

And that about sums it up.

Oh, and when I remember, I’m also worrying about the fact that I haven’t heard from the bureaucracy of the State of NJ regarding my license.

I am falling back into my old habit of not being able to accomplish anything else, think about anything else, etc, etc until that which I am worrying about is resolved. It’s an issue that I have been trying to work on for years, and I’ve gotten better, but this is a pretty big test of my patience and resolve and I am failing somewhat miserably.

At least my closet is clean. And my hair has looked good all week thanks to my new magic hair straightener. And I will soon have more clothes than I know what to do with (via my anxiety induced shopping spree). And I’m smashing my high scores on Wordtwist.

Still waiting for news, obviously, and the longer I don’t hear the less optimistic I am. There is no logic that I could introduce to the equation that would make me feel any better/more positive about this. It is not a rational thought process.

I am irritable. Truly, madly, deeply.

First, the ATM is still not working. Logic should dictate that I simply go to another ATM, but the whole “I can’t drive” thing sort of puts a damper on my freedom, even the freedom to merely search out an ATM.

Secondly, one of our departments has a new girl,  who is just inventing these new procedures/rules and totally screwing up my invoice processing. This should be a very, very simple task from start to finish, but there are constantly like, 87 new people involved, asking questions and making things complicated.

It’s also raining, so the bottom of my jeans are wet. And my crazy carpool lady cannot drive on Friday (after not driving yesterday) and she is going on and on about her dental issues and it’s like “Shut up lady, it’s 8:00 am, get over your fucking teeth and drive the car.” And I could work overtime on Thursday due to a major quarterly project, but probably can’t do it because of driving situation. There are four more weeks of this nonsense, but that’s if and only if the bureaucracy of the State of New Jersey has worked itself out correctly, and that is a big fucking “If.”

And I have meetings I have to go to tonight and tomorrow night, and I woke up dreading the one tonight (and that’s the lesser of two evils one). I fucking HATE, HATE, HATE the Wednesday one, to the point where walking out of there at 10:05 PM is the best part of my week because it means I don’t have to go back for another week. And since I’ve skipped the Tuesday one the past two weeks, I REALLY have to go, and it’s somehow harder to force myself to these things after an absence.

I know I say I just want to know about the phone interview one way or another (and I know all of you are entirely sick of hearing about this, but so is everyone else in my real life) but I’m going to be crushed if it’s a “no.” I’m going to be even more crushed if come Friday, I don’t hear anything because, as I mentioned yesterday, I won’t be able to stop myself from hoping about the off chance that I wound up in the wrong application pool. But seriously, if my application was so bad that I don’t even warrant a phone interview? Forget the 8% acceptance rate – I’m going to be crushed.

So when you combine this with the little irritating things, you have a Rachel who is not quite fit for human contact. And of course this is the week that I have to be a happy little worker bee at work because its quarterly report time!

About a year ago, I thought I would be maybe, possibly applying for Law School this fall. It quickly became clear that my head was in no way clear enough to begin the process. And also, um…I’m not sure I want to go to Law School. I have moments where it seems like a great idea, but also moments where I think “why the hell would I want to go to Law School?” 

The problem is that Law School has begun to seem like an inevitable instead of a want. 

Read the rest of this entry »

 
David:  So who wrote this, you or me? It must have been you, I don’t have my MA.

I am all over the map this month. Go away, October.

Anyway, my high school friend Joe, who’ve I just recently gotten back in touch with due to the fact that we work across the street from each other and saw each other on the bus all the time when I was briefly commuting from Jersey, agreed to be my date for the black tie event I had to attend for work. He agreed with no begging on my part, just a “Sure, when do I need to be there?” Because old friends are awesome.

I called Lisa up, who i haven’t spoken to in forever, just to tell her about this agreement, and she told me that “This entire ordeal with you being a grown up is too surreal and upsets my always tenuous equilibrium. In addition to Joe’s capacity for predictable decorum, he has also grown up a bit and no longer is our “little Joe.”

Which I relayed to Joe, and he was like “yeah, that’s pretty much accurate.” But for the record, the evening went very well. Joe was exactly the perfect date. He kept me talking throughout whenever it was just the two of us standing around, because anyone from staff was either a) important enough to be schmoozing with donors b) had to work the front door. (I am still not sure why my presence was required…whatever)

He kept me talking which prevented me from wringing my hands, biting my nails, or looking overly awkward. There was massive amount of delicious sushi. I drank too much wine, but that had no ill effects, because we were seated with the scientists, not staff for some reason. This was actually a pretty good situation, as Joe was a physics major in college, and chatted up the science people. I am completely floored by Joe’s ability to seamlessly socialize with various individuals at the table. He kept me from being a nervous wreck. Joe has known me for nearly a decade and thus is familiar with my particular brand of neurosis and was able to balance it well. Ladies, Joe is a total catch, my new mission is to find him a girlfriend.

So the evening went very well and thank god it is over, but also being a grown up is fucking scary. I really think I’m still pretty clueless on the ‘life plan’ level. My job is stable and I like it, and it’s a pretty cool organization (this was just confirmed to me tenfold because of the presentations on Sunday. My organization funds some really awesome work and I should be proud to be a small part of it)

I’m just…I don’t know right now. I feel okay about my job, but I’m not sure where I can go from it in the long run. I know I’ve only been there for two months, but I’m already thinking along the lines of that there is nowhere to really go from where I am and that’s…frustrating. I have my expensive education and it’s like if I ever want to do more than what I’m doing now I’m going to have to go elsewhere.

I may ultimately want something else, even though I should be perfectly grateful with what I’ve got, job and apartment wise, because for another example of how much of a jerk I am, right now I am back at Freeze Peach in the Ditmars area, and as amazingly awesome as my apartment is the location will never be Ditmars….

Most people would say I”m in a better location now, more transportation options, etc, but Ditmars is home. Ditmars feels right. I don’t think my new location ever will feel quite right, and that makes me sad because it is an AWESOME apartment, but I think I’d take back my humble abode on 21st Avenue too.

As I suspected I would, I miss my previous life as an Astorian.  I don’t know what’s next, and I ALWAYS know what’s next. So I”m trying to take a deep breath and go to bed early tonight, because god damnit, I’m a smart girl and I’ll figure this the hell out.

I am so unnecessarily bitchy and angsty right now. I hate Chicago. I grew up in suburbia and spent a year in NYC, but I am annoyed by my comparatively “street smart” skills. I’ve always been told I look pissed off all the time; just my normal facial expression, and that that’s why I never get heckled. But I’m sick of living in a neighborhood where I can get mugged or assaulted by a 16 year old. If I’m paying this much rent, I don’t want this type of neighborhood.

I hate this apartment; it’s a rip-off, and its directly over the trashroom so by the time its pick-up day the smell permeates, and it faces a giant Soviet style apartment complex that is full of sketchy tenants who are loud at night.

I hate what Uchicago has done to me. 9 months ago I was happy. I wouldn’t qualify myself as unhappy right now, but I’m all angsty and unsure about the future and that nonsense, and its like WTF was the point of an MA program, when all its done is left me  behind my peer group in terms of job experience?