Epilogue

"God makes hungry.  The devil thirsty. [...] Well, folks, I guess many in this fine hall are as hungry and thirsty as me, and I'd better stop, folks, right here.  Yes, better stop.  My notes and my self are petering out.  Gentlemen, I have suffered very much, and more than any of you can imagine."
-From Pale Fire

Fitting for me to wrap things up with a quote from my favorite author, the one whose writing inspired a love for the printed word so deep that I became a librarian, and this blog was born.

I now consider this blog to be a finished product.  There won't be any more posts.  It was about the struggles of trying to become a librarian, and it lasted far longer than I thought or hoped it would.  But that part of my life is behind me now.  That is, unless I get laid off in a few months and need to begin my search anew, but we'll just imagine it's not likely.  I feel that this is a good way to bookend the blog; my second and penultimate posts are titled "Give Up" and "I gave up," respectively.

Now I suppose to sum up.  I finally made it, I'm a librarian.  It happened just 3 months shy of my decade anniversary of receiving my MLIS.

To review, what was the cost of this MLIS?

--10s of thousands of dollars of debt, between undergrad and grad school.  I think it began in the low 40,000s, and is currently at 11,500.

--Losing out on a decade of my life.  A decade I was unable to live independently, meaning a decade I was unable to do various things in my personal life that were important.  Things that I have a greatly diminished ability to do now that I'm 35, as those activities were much more suited for people in their 20s.

--Had to move to literally the other side of the country, nearly 1,000 miles away from everyone I know, to a state where like-minded people are harder to come by.

--Earning a salary that's a bit on the entry-level side.  My dad made significantly more just being a mailman.

I don't mean to sound unhappy, so I'll also list the positives:

--I like every single person I work with.

--I'm doing a job that feels meaningful.  I get to do something that makes a positive difference in the world, rather than toil away just to make a rich asshole richer.

Those two things matter, and they matter a lot.  I'm not at all unhappy in life right now.  But you can find those things in jobs other than librarian.

In the end was it worth it?  Absolutely not.  I fucked up my life for library science.  I lost the best years of my life waiting for something to come together for me.

Would I recommend an MLIS to anyone?  Absolutely not.

Would I, in fact, actively discourage people from pursuing an MLIS?  A little.  I recognize that no one can predict the future.  When I was in grad school they were predicting a huge boom for library jobs soon after I was scheduled to get my degree, and look how that worked out.  But still, I think a huge fall is much more likely in this field than a huge boom, and I would likely at the very least give the same advice I would have close to the start of this blog.  You had better be passionate enough that you're willing to make sacrifices and spend a good long time living the starving artist life.  If you're not, I highly recommend fucking right off, for your own sake.

Would I do things over differently if I had the chance to turn back time?  Yes, I would.  I would absolutely choose a different career.

But am I happy now?  Yeah.  I mean, I guess ask me again when I'm 50 and still never got what I really wanted out of life because I started too late, but right now I'm happy.  I've made a life for myself, albeit very late, and I'm doing something worthwhile with good people.

For posterity, here is the map I had been working on of my application attempts in its final version.  I failed to achieve my goal of being rejected by every state in the union, but I came very close.  Maybe someday...

On a final note, I posted on a librarian forum about me getting the job after nearly a decade.  I was shocked to see people telling me that yeah, that sounds about right.  I know the field is in poor shape, but I thought my case was exceptionally bad.  Sadly, I was wrong.  A few people told me that it's exactly normal, and absolutely no one tried to tell me I was just especially unlucky, and most people fare better.  Not one.  I submit that, while it's obviously possible to do better, it's also not incredibly unusual for things to go just about this badly.

On another final note:  I reread over my old posts.  There are some very, very dark turns in here.  I was depressed through some of this, and when I was, it showed.  I can't even remember what it feels like to be so miserable, and thankfully I haven't felt that way in some time.  When I look back on it, it's actually scary to see it.  It's a great relief to know I made it through all of that.

Happy trails to all, thanks everyone who read.  Most people finish novels faster than I finished this blog, but at least it finally happened.  Goodbye and good night.

I gave up

So, last year I was weighing some pretty heavy decisions about giving up.  Granted, I've been aware of that looming decision  ever since I began this blog-- my second ever post was titled: "Give Up."  But the end of 2017 is when it really reached the point where the ship had taken on so much water that it was now becoming urgent for me to get into a life raft, or fully embrace sinking to the bottom of the ocean.  As I weighed my options, I saw one last chance of rescue; a passing ship that just might be close enough to see my flare.

I realize I'm getting lost in metaphor as I tend to do, so to clarify: in late December, after having decided to throw in the towel, I got an email from a place on the other side of the country that wanted to interview me for a position.  So I decided, that's it.  This is my last chance.  Either I'm going to get this job, or I'm going to give up for good.  I'd get a minimum wage job working 40 hours a week while also teaching at night for another 9-16.  I'd live the kind of life I specifically never wanted: long hours, my life taken up by nothing but work, all just so I can scrape by.  I was going to be miserable, but I was out of options.  So everything is riding now on this one last chance.

Well... it started out well.  I had a phone interview in January.  It was actually quite promising.  They were impressed with my experience-- they even noted that it's unusual to get applicants with so much experience since it's an entry level job.  Oh, did I mention that?  It's an entry level job nearly 1000 miles away from me, in a part of the country where there are very few like-minded people, for a low (but at least livable) wage.  Yeah, in this "all or nothing" scenario, this is what I was considering the "all" to be.

Anyway, the phone interview was good and they invited me to their state-- again, almost 1,000 miles away-- for an in person interview.  This is where things went off the cliff.

I had to fly there.  I'd never flown.  This is the dead of Winter and I got a ride to the airport from my dad.  I guess it could have been worse.  I could have gotten onto the plane and it could have crashed.  As it turned out though, well, I've still never flown.

The flight got delayed.  Then it got delayed again.  And again.  And again.  I think I sat there for about 7 hours before it finally got cancelled.  So, the plane never took off.  They weren't able to get me onto another one that would have made it to the airport where my transferring flight was in time.  Oh, and did I mention that the place interviewing me was on a very tight schedule?    They probably wouldn't be able to reschedule.

I called the person who interviewed me.  The first words she says: "oh no, and you had such good references too."

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK.  That was not a good thing to hear.  I suggested possibly a skype interview.  She couldn't make any promises, but said she'd call me early in the morning.

I got a ride back home from my dad.  It was dark, the road conditions were terrible, and he even got lost for a bit.  That ride home, after sitting at the airport all day waiting for a plane that never took off, was just such a fitting end to my hopes of getting into this career.

I woke up very early in the morning after very little sleep in anticipation of that phone call.  The bad news was that, indeed, there would be no rescheduling of the flight.  The good news was that at least they could give me the skype interview.

Great.  I mean... I guess they tried.  It was something.  But crap, we know that the main point of an interview is getting to know the person a bit so you can decide if they'll fit in with your culture.  And when everyone else got to meet them in person and I just get a skype interview, suddenly my odds have gone from promising to dismal.  Can you imagine living the rest of your life in a completely miserable existence, all the while knowing that things could have been completely different if one tiny thing-- like a plane taking off-- had gone differently?

I did the best I could with what I had.  There was a presentation involved, and I had to do it over skype, but I made it work.  She sounded very impressed; when it was over she said: "you actually pulled it off!"  Great, that's a point for me.  Adaptability-- I demonstrated the hell out of adaptability.  But that was worth 1 point, and developing a rapport is worth 50, so I wasn't surprised when I heard the words: "We're interviewing other people."  After just a few months shy of 10 years of trying to break into the field, with those words I heard the last nail being pounded into the coffin.

They told me I'd hear back within a week, and there was nothing more to say at that point.  My last grasp for a life that wouldn't be completely miserable had just played out, and it was a huge disaster.

So anyway, they called me the next morning and I got the job.

Yeah... you read that right.  Don't believe it?  Well, neither do I.  Because it only happens that way in the movies.  I give up, and literally my last chance, that's when it falls into place?  That could almost only be fiction.  That's the climax of a Shakespearean play-- the hero (sure, I'm a hero >.>) is either at his lowest point and suffers a huge reversal of fortune, or vice versa.  Or a movie-- the hero is on his knees, about to be dealt the death blow by his foe, when he turns it all around and throws the dastardly villain off the cliff.  But these things don't happen in real life.

Part of me still has to wonder if maybe I got in the airplane and crashed and died, and now my mind is in some kind of fugue state, extrapolating what my life might have been from my arrival to the airport on.

This is getting to be a long post, so expect an epilogue to follow.  I don't know when, but hopefully before too long.

Specificity

As us MLIS holders keep banging on the doors that the full time jobs are locked behind, I can't help be amazed and some of the job posts I see, and can't help but wonder how on earth they could ever be filled.  What kinds of jobs do I see when looking over library job sites?  Here are some fun examples:


Due Diligence Analyst (IL). 

I read the job description for this position and I still have no idea what they do.  But putting that aside, I'd love to know how many people went to library school in hopes of one day working as a Due Diligence Analyst.  If you're one of them, please tell me what you do in much simpler terms than I saw.


Product Coordinator- Reading Glasses (RI)

OK, I'm going to assume that this just made it onto a library job site completely by mistake, I don't think it's even supposed to be related in any way.


Bilingual Vietnamese Access Services Assistant (OR)

Seriously, who gets this job?  "Do you have an MLIS?  Do you have experience in access services?  Do you live in OR, or are willing to move there?  Do you also speak fluent Vietnamese?  Well then, it's your lucky fucking day.  Because if you have the qualifications to apply for this job, you're the only one!  Just show up to an interview, pants optional, and the job is yours!"  I would love to meet the person who got made fun of all through school because they studied for an MLIS and learned Vietnamese in the hopes of finding this exact job someday, and then it actually ended up paying off.  I would laugh and laugh and laugh.


These are of course oddball examples, but it's actually extremely common to see jobs that want you to have a second Master's degree, often in the hard sciences.  Yeah, I have a Master's in engineering, but now I'm going to spend the time and money on another Master's so I can go from being an engineer to being a librarian, because... I don't deserve to be happy.

These are the jobs I see when looking for employment.  Jobs I don't see: "Reference," without a bunch of stuff like "programming" and "children's lit" tacked onto it.  I'm pretty sure that used to be a thing, back before my ill fated graduation year of 2008.  I don't think they'll ever exist again.

String beans to Utah

This will be a short update.

I said last time (and surely you remember what I wrote 4.5 months ago...) that I was planning to get back to the good news.  I let it get so long because I was hoping if I waited I'd have even more good news.  Well, that didn't happen, and then the news that felt good at the time stopped feeling all that great.

Anyway.  The good news is that I had some more interviews.  In the span of just a few months, I had three whole interviews, and two of them went well.  Well enough that in another universe somewhere, I may well have gotten those jobs.  The third one, eh, not quite as great (I didn't get past the phone interview), but it wasn't a disaster and it was an interview.

What that means is that in just a few months time, I had more interviews than I'd had in any one year ever since that fateful day when someone handed me an MLIS and, somewhere, I heard thunder and and what sounded like distorted, mocking laughter.  "This is good news!," I thought.  At this rate, I may well have a job soon.  I'm finally starting to see the opportunities I should have been seeing six years ago or so.

But then after that, nothing.  And I don't mean nothing as in I haven't been getting interviews.  I mean nothing as in, I can't even find jobs to apply to anymore.  I keep looking regularly-- a few times a week I'll look over my websites and see what's been posted.  Always the same: a bunch of part time jobs in far off states that I couldn't afford to take even if I got them.  Jobs I have no experience with (i.e., anything public.  These jobs usually fall in the former category as well).  Jobs I wouldn't take with a gun to my head (i.e. anything working with children.  These jobs usually fall in the former category as well).  So, nothing.  I don't believe I even applied to a job since maybe July or the end of June.  There's just nothing I can apply to.

Weird year.  I have a lot of success (compared to what I used to have), but it's all clumped together in one short stretch so for two months I feel like I'm awesome, and the rest of the year just feels desolate as hell.

I was thinking hey, at least on average this year has been better, so maybe next year will be too.  But given recent events, I have little hope for the economy for a while, so.... fuck, maybe I'm just nearing the time I finally go ahead and pull the trigger on giving up for good.  I think I'd make a pretty good trucker.  In any event, I have a lot to figure out moving forward.

Further failure, part 2: the dark side.

I've been putting this post off for a while.  I posted earlier about a job I came so close to getting after all these years, but came up short once again at the very end.  That post was my optimistic look at the situation, and I planned to follow through with a pessimistic look at it.

But the truth is, I'm just not feeling it.  And not only did that make it hard to motivate myself to want to do this, but it made me afraid to do it.  I've actually been feeling pretty good lately.  I've had things in my life to look forward to, even if gainful employment (and everything that comes with it) hasn't been one of those things.  So I was afraid that if I looked inside myself for the gloomy outlook that I know still exists in here somewhere, I might just open that Pandora's box a bit too wide and gloom and depression would have dominion over me again.

However, I have more I've been wanting to say, and that means I need to get this post out of the way first.  So on the bright side, it was a good sign that I got so close to a job, that had circumstances been different, I might be gainfully employed and living in my own apartment right now.  On the bright side, I now know that it's at least possible.

But on the dark side....

On the dark side, that was a damn fucking good job I didn't get.  The kind of job that doesn't come around very often.  Gainful employment doing exactly what I want to do and exactly what I know I'm good at, while only having to work 80% of full time.  Having an extra 20% to myself, to spend how I want.  And working in a nice place with a nice bunch of people.  That job was at the tip of my fingers, but it came down to five people who decided to pull it out of my hands after all.  And just like that, my best shot at a great job is gone.

Now, I might get a job someday, sure.  But the chances of me getting a job like that?  Well, it just can't happen.  I'm no stranger in life to unicorn hunting, but I've never managed to catch that damn unicorn.  May have spotted a few, but they all got away.  I should definitely not be getting my hopes up about being able to catch this particular unicorn.  So no, I'm going to have to grind my life down working 40-45 hours a week or more, 49 weeks a year or more if I ever get a job at all.  And granted, that is what most people do, but if there were a way I could have avoided that and had enough time to do some real traveling and whatnot, well it would have been through a job like that.  A job I probably can't ever hope to have.

And then there's the other issue I've hinted at before and will hint at again: I want very little out of life.  but the one thing I wanted more than anything, it's already probably too late for me to get that.  And the reason it's too late is because I won't be getting a living wage until I'm God knows how old (33 and counting).  I really needed to get there by my mid 20s at latest, but since I already didn't do that, I have next to no chance even if I get a job tomorrow.  Even if I had gotten that job I'd have next to no chance.  This is all for nothing.

That's about all I can write right now.  I'm already feeling down from this, so I'll stop here and try to get myself back into good spirits.  Things are going ok for me right now.  I have things to look forward to.  And my next post will actually be good news.  Back to the bright side.

To win big just once.

About a month ago, powerball fever swept the nation.  All over the country, people said: "statistics be damned," and purchased a ticket to get in on the action.  I suspect many of them were purchasing a ticket not to win, but to dream.  They knew damn well there was no real possibility that they'd win this life-changing money, but for a week or two, they got to window-shop online for all the big-ticket items they'd buy, got to imagine their dream homes, got to daydream about paying off their debts and giving their nieces and nephews a chance to go to college.

After a long while of being unable to motivate myself to look for a job (and who wouldn't get burned out after 8 years of failure?), I've-- at least for the time being-- pulled myself out of the funk long enough to apply for two jobs.  In doing so, I rediscovered something I had completely forgotten about.  The powerball effect.

I know that the odds of landing any particular librarian job are near as likely as winning the powerball for me.  But still, I can dream.  Ever since applying for those jobs, I've taken to imagining what this life-changing windfall would be like.  I think about going home after a day's work to a small but nice apartment.  I open the fridge-- stocked with nothing but foods I like-- and prepare a nice but relatively fuss-free meal.  While waiting for it to cook, I walk to my absinthe fountain-- something I've always wanted but have no room for without a place of my own-- and slowly drip myself a glass of absinthe to unwind from my day.  I eat, drink, and enjoy what's left of my day while looking forward to the weekend when I'll have time to see my friends.

I even began window-shopping for apartments.  I looked online at pictures of one-bedroom places with reasonable rent, and imagined living in that space, imagined where my things would go, imagined meeting with the apartment manager, seeing the places in person, and trying to figure out if there are children in the apartments, since directly asking is illegal for some asinine reason (I'm not allowed to value quiet and sleep?).

I think about some friends coming up to my new place, bringing board games and being supplied with generous portions of wine, scotch, or absinthe, as desired, along with a home-cooked meal.  For once, my friends can come to me, and not always vice-versa.

Some people buy their dreams with a few dollars.  I buy mine with the time it takes to fill out an application and craft a cover letter.  I think my way is harder, and for a smaller dream, no less.  But I'm not here to complain about that.  Also, I would typically at this point say something about how my dream will go up in a puff of nothing just as easily as all those powerball players.  I would talk about that crushing moment where it's all hopeless again, at least until I can buy the next dream.  But I'm not going to do that this time, because I'm trying to give up my default negativity for lent.  So instead I'll say, maybe it will be this time.  Or the next.  And the take away from this for me is that, despite the likelihood of rejection, there is real value in my trying.  I spent so much time curled up  in a pit of despair that I'd forgotten what it's like to lift my head and at least look up at the sky above.  Maybe, knowing this, I'll be able to convince myself to keep trying.

I only need to win big just once.

This library-land is made for you and...........

I probably said at one point that this blog would still be active, and I didn't want it to become one of those blogs to update every six months just to say "sorry I'm not updating, but I promise I'll start again soon!" only to go silent for another six months, and repeat.  Did I ever actually say that though, or did I just think it?  Either way, I was hoping for that not to be the case with my blog, and in my defense I meant it at the time.  The follow-through has left something to be desired.

Anyway, I'm not going to make excuses.  I'm also not going to promise to write more from now on.  The reason I haven't been writing all this time is, frankly, I feel defeated.  I've just come to accept that this will be my life, and all I'm doing is wasting my time when I try to find full time work.

Every now and then I'll see some fresh-faced fuck (sorry, but allow me to be bitter.  I've earned it) complain about how it took them a whole six months to get a job out of grad school, and I'll think my 6+ years of teaching info lit should damn well count for something and I should be able to get a job within just a few months too.  And then I'll remember how utterly devoid of hope the last six years have been, and just...................

How can I not give up?  Clearly I lack something.  I'm always assured that I'm a fine candidate, but, "there were just so many applicants, is all.  Sorry about your damn luck."  But can it really just be my damn luck when people are getting jobs so soon these days and I still can't?

I've been worn down.  I've lost the will to fight.  I've even lost the will to fight back.

I don't remember the last time I looked at the want ads.  Maybe October?  November?  It has been a while.  Even when you're starving, there are only so many times you can open a pantry that you know for a fact to be empty.  That's exactly what it feels like I'm doing when I look at the want ads these days.  After opening that pantry door so many times, I've just learned that it's empty and there's no sense in opening it as if I expect a jar of peanut butter to have spontaneously appeared.

So that's why I haven't been writing.  My motivation to look for work and any feeling of connection I have to this field is slipping more and more with each passing year.  I'm telling myself I'll write more, just as I'll look at the want ads more.  I'm not going to make any promises, though.

I wish I could just forget it all.  Be done with it.  I have a car that runs and I have a box of Woody Guthrie albums.  What else would I even need, if only I didn't need to worry about money for food and gas and student loans and another car for the day the one I have doesn't run any longer?  If it weren't for those needs, I'd say fuck it, get in my car, and spend a few years exploring that ribbon of highway I've been hearing about.

I want to see the desert.  I'm sure there's more for me out there than I've come to find in library-land.

We just got no letters, I wonder who they're from.

It has been an especially long time since I’ve gotten a letter of rejection.  Part of the problem is, of course, that I’m applying to fewer jobs these days.  The truth is, there have been far fewer jobs to apply to lately.  I don’t know exactly the cause, but it seems that there are far fewer jobs being advertised this year than there have been in the last two years, and most of my time job hunting lately is spent skimming a short list of job ads while thinking: "nope, nope, nope, I don't even know what that is, nope, and that's it, let's see how it goes next week."  But part of the problem is also that sometimes you just don’t get a rejection letter.  Sometimes you get a rejection email, and sometimes you get nothing at all.

Reading comments from other job seekers, I’m under the impression that a lot of us would very much appreciate being told when we weren’t selected for the job.  Maybe I’m still younger than some of them, but I honestly can’t remember a time when it was commonplace to receive any kind of notification.  I once applied to a job outside of the field, and the interviewer assured me unsolicited that they do call people to let them know if they were selected or not.  They never called me.  I learned after that that I should neither expect notification nor bother trying to obtain assurances that I’ll get any.

But really, of all of the complaints that us job seekers should have—the very shallow job pool (more of a job puddle, really), the mystery salaries, the low salaries—it seems odd to pick on notifications.  Maybe this is the best we feel we can do?  That was can never expect anything else to improve, but maybe if we raise our voices enough, more places will send out a nice little form letter or email?  Maybe even with a real signature on the bottom if we’re extra blessed?  I’m sorry, but with so many legitimate issues that exist when job hunting, it seems like nit-picking to bring this one up.  You know why I don’t care if I get notified?  Because if they never give me any kind of reply, that’s my answer.  I figured it out all by myself.  Actually, it somewhat annoys me to receive a notification of fuck off because it often happens 3-4 months after I apply for a job.  Why even bother?  Thanks guys, but I worked out that you didn't think I'd work out.  You've given me no new information.

But I have noticed the lack of paper letters in just the past year.  As I write this on Feb 2015, the last paper notification of what a loser I am came in on June 2014 (thanks, Santa Fe! I'm sorry I won't try your chili but I'm glad I won't encounter your scorpions).  And I know that paper notification letter had been a thing even as recently as a couple of years ago, and I know that because I have a stack of them.

I’ve saved every single one of them since I began job hunting in 2008.

I’m not sure what my intentions were, exactly.  Maybe I thought that when I got a job, I could look over every rejection letter and think: “you didn’t pick me, but I found someone who would.”  Maybe I thought that one day when my niece or nephew is looking for a job and having a hard time, I’d be able to pull my rejection letters out of my filing cabinet and show them that people often don’t succeed their first try, but if they hang in there, good things will happen.  Maybe I wanted to burn them all at once in some gleeful celebration.  Maybe I wanted something to glare at when I drink (though my MLIS is filling that role nicely).  I don’t know what I was thinking, but the point is I kept them, so I still have them, so I know they used to be a thing people sometimes received by mail.

And now it seems even more uncommon to receive them by mail than it was before.  This is, of course, only my experience and personal experience counts for nothing.  But since my experience is the one I’m writing about, here it is.  My thoughts on saving rejection letters suffer the same problem as my thought to pursue a career in libraries: it was a nice thought, but ultimately unworkable.

So this is the new year. And I don't feel any different

2014 is sputtering out its last gasps.  By the time anyone sees this, it will likely be 2015.  Another year ticks by with nothing to show for it but lack of opportunity and failure for the very few opportunities I did have.

The end of the year is doubly a symbol of failure for me, because it's not only the end of a calendar year, but the end of another year of my life.  I was born on December 28th, 32 years ago now.  As another year passes by for the earth, so too does a year of my life go by in almost perfect unison.  So now, as I type this out two days after my birthday and two days until the new year, I can say that both of these cycles have been completed once again without me seeming to be even one step closer to being anything, anywhere, to anybody.

I've mentioned before that I'm a failure, and as much as I try to move forward, the light never changes green for me.  Year after year, I'm seeing red.  Farewell 2014, another pointless waste of a year being shaved from my life with nothing to show for it.

As a point of habit, I've never celebrated New Year's eve.  For one thing, I don't have the kind of social circle that gets me invited to parties.  Big shock, right?  And for another, I've always resented holidays that are used as an excuse to drink.  I'm a fucking adult, even if I don't live like one, and I don't need someone to tell me when is a socially acceptable day to drink if I want to.  So while everyone is out drinking and making out with their significant others (or closest strangers) while listening to a song by a poet they all REALLY ought to learn more about (fact: Robert Burns is better than you), I will be here in my basement, playing video games, and probably not noticing when the clock spins to midnight.

It's lucky that I've never felt an urge to celebrate the new year.  Because if I ever had, I sure as hell wouldn't want to now.

I started this blog as a 29 year old living in the basement of his parents, and now I'm a 32 year old living in the basement of his parents.  Not a 32 year old who dropped out of high school and has spent the last 17 years doing drugs, but a 32 year old who spent until 26 getting an education, getting a Master's degree, and then finding out what was supposed to be a practical, employable Master's degree wouldn't even make good kindling.  And this basement is fucking cold.

32 is the year that you're officially old enough that it's hard to remember your age.  30 is easy because it's the big 3-0.  31 is easy because "holy fuck, I've gone a year past the big 3-0 and I still don't have my life together!  32 is when you stop counting because it's all just too God damned depressing.

A benign year for me.  A malignant year for the earth.  Progress happening for neither of us as we race to see who passes away first while looking back on what we've done to confirm that it was all a huge mistake.

Silence

I've gone a little while without updating my blog.  Don't worry, I still have plenty of scribbled notes of ideas for blog discussions.  I just haven't been interested in doing them lately for the same reason I haven't been very diligent in job hunting for librarian jobs lately.

When I first started writing about the impossibility of getting a job in this field, the advice I gave to myself, yet refused to accept, was "Give Up."  And while I haven't done this yet, the sentiment has crept deeper into my bones lately.  It's so hard to motivate myself to spend hours of my time going through job listings and applying to at least the lowest hanging fruit when more than six years of experience is telling m it's a waste of time, and my life will never move on from the stalled place it's at now.

For the past few months I've been begrudgingly doing the part-part-part time job I do have and then coming home and escaping into books or video games, not even bothering to waste my time applying anywhere.  I've just been feeling too defeated to pull myself up lately.

If you're not in this position it's probably so easy to say: "oh, but you need to apply, you never know!"  or "don't Give Up!"  Or "you may as well keep trying, no harm in trying after all!"  To you, I challenge you to go six straight years failing at something and not go through patches where you're just not motivated.  When you've had Mike Tyson beating you senseless for six years, there will be times when you lie on the mat for longer than needed, just to get a break.

My lack of interest in my career has also, as you have seen, translated to a lack of interest in talking about my career.  I still have plenty to say, though.  And really, that's sad.  I didn't know when I started two years ago that I'd have over two years worth of material to rant about regarding my own personal failure in life, and the death of the American dream.  No, not death.  Zombification.  It has died, but shuffles on as a cruel mockery of those who cared for it, devouring them in giant handfuls.  I don't know what to make of the fact that I've now used two analogies of fighting an opponent who likes to bite people.  Point is, it is appalling  that there's so much to say about how terrible one specific problem is.  Two years and still so much left to say about the futility of life for anyone trying to start a life for the first time post November, 2008.

And it will be said.  A few days ago I managed to bring myself to skim the job postings half-heartedly, and this should mark the start of more searching, more applications, and more posts about just how fucked this dead field is.

Enjoy.

I think, therefore I am sad.

Since this blog is about me being a failure, it is long overdue that I talk about what exactly I’m failing at.  You know what it is in general—I’m trying and failing to be a librarian.  But I can be more specific.  Here are the kinds of position I’m open to:

On the academic level: instruction, reference, and collection development are the places I’m aiming.  Sometimes a position will be jazzed up with a title like “E-learning librarian” and will have maybe an additional duty or two, but this is what I’m experienced in and know I like.

On the public level: reference… aaand that’s pretty much it.

Then there are my “hard limits,” jobs I will never apply for.  These are: archivist, children’s librarian, and cataloging.

Why I want the stuff I want: as I said above, I’m experienced in instruction and know I like it.  Same with reference and collection development.  I don’t have anything against something like acquisitions, nor do I think it would be very difficult to pick up, but my overall lack of experience really precludes me from being able to apply.  When I was doing fieldwork 6 years ago I dabbled a bit in it, but I couldn’t even tell you the name of the system I was using at this point.  The most I’d be able to say to an employer is “I dabbled in it many years ago and I’m sure I can do it, but I don’t have any recent proof of that.”  So, that’s out.  Instruction is really the only place I can boast a lot of experience.

I fell into instruction partly by chance and partly by choice.  When I was in library school my plan was actually to become a reference librarian in a public library.  Finding answers to random questions and dealing with weirdos all while being paid, what more could I ask?  Then came time for me to do fieldwork, and I went immediately to the nearby public library and told them I’m available for free labor.  Their answer: “no thanks.”  Yep, I even failed to GIVE AWAY my free labor on the first try.  They told me they were too busy to deal with me and I’d have to try someplace else.  I didn’t have a car yet at this point, so my options were fairly limited.  There was only one other library I wouldn’t need to bus to, and in fact it was much closer; just a quick walk up a short hill, maybe 5 minutes walking.  The only problem was this was an academic library, which wasn’t where I had hoped my career would take me.  However, I figured the reference experience I’d get there could translate to working in a public library, so I went ahead and asked.  As luck would have it, they were only too happy to help!  I enjoyed my time there and am still in contact with several of them today, and all of them are happy to be strong references for me.  So, you could say that worked out.  What also “worked out” is that I had an opportunity to get a taste of instruction there, and it immediately become my thing.  Perhaps (if I haven’t already—I don’t even remember) I’ll follow up with a post on why instruction turned out to be the path for me.  We’ll leave it here for now and move on.

I consider myself to have lucked out there, not only in discovering the niche I was best suited to, but also because instruction affords me MUCH more opportunity than public reference does.  Part of the problem with many librarian positions is, since our field is now F’d in the B, so many positions have been combined and blended together.  This often means the blending of something I can demonstrate an aptitude in (reference) with something I have no experience or even knowledge of my own aptitude in (cataloging, adult services, youth services, take your pick).  In all of my searching in the last year, I think I may have seen one posting for a public reference position that was full time and was actually just reference.  To just teal deer that for you, so many positions have been merged together that I (and I’m sure countless new librarians) are having a harder time finding a position, not just because there are less jobs, but also because things they had experience in are being merged with things they don’t.

As another example, I think I’d make a good teen librarian.  I love graphic novels, video games, and John Green.  That’s what you could call a good start.  That and I’m familiar with YALSA, of course.  But more and more I’m seeing teen librarians and children’s librarians merged together into “youth services librarians” who do both jobs.  I think I relate to teens more than someone my age probably should, but children are another story.  For one, I hate them.  Even putting that aside, I can’t be relatable to them.  I can’t talk to them on their level, with coos and squeaky voices and feigned enthusiasm.  I just can’t, it's not something I have in me.  It is in the best interest of everybody involved if I am kept as far away from children as humanly possible.  But of course, this means I can kiss goodbye a lot of opportunities to be a teen librarian, which is actually something I could do and enjoy.

This post began as an explanation of what opportunities I’m going after and not going after, and this is a rare time it evolved into a little more as I began to type (I usually have a destination in plan when I begin, but this time I didn’t).  It also began to explain why merging positions creates reduced opportunity beyond the obvious fact that there’s less positions.  I’m not sure yet if it’s been taken into account that we’re not only losing numbers, but many positions have also been combined in such a way that more experience is needed (or at least preferred), creating a double whammy effect for anyone still trying to get solid footing.

This is why sometimes it’s better not to think.  The result is often depressing.

A tale of two pities

For about two years now I’ve been writing about how my pursuit for a career has pretty much fucked my entire life up.  And yet, I keep trying to make it in my field, despite the universe telling me not to.  Part of the reason for this is that giving up completely would entail giving in to trying to find a few minimum wage jobs to string together until I can manage to make enough to live off, despite my student loan debts.  Indeed, it seems that life in America has turned into a “fucked either way” situation.

Allow me to compare the divergent paths of me and my best friend.  We’ll start with me since you know the story pretty well:

I got a 4 year college degree, went on to library school, got my MLIS, and six years later at the age of 31 I am living with my parents, still in no position to even try to make a family of my own because I’m making right around 10,000 a year while paying 280 and change per month for student loans that I’ll have for the next, oh, probably 20 years.

My friend, on the other hand, did the exact opposite.  He didn’t graduate from high school, and just went right into the work force the moment he could.  Fast forward to today, he is 31 and has a house and a family.  However, he also works 90 hours a week doing strenuous manual labor.  Here is a direct quote (well, not exactly verbatim, unless my luck is a statistical monster) that sums up his life:

“When I got home from work I fell asleep in the garage with the car still running and the garage door closed.  I woke up in time, but this is just what this job’s doing to me.”

My point, and what I consider one of the main points of this blog, and why I consider it important for me to be recording my experience for posterity, is this: this seems to me to be the choice most Americans have to face these days.  Those of you who found footing in library land before fate fucked it over: congratulations.  I’m happy for you.  But people trying to make it in the world now seem to have two choices: they can either come very close to killing themselves (maybe literally) doing nothing but work at a variety of low paying jobs like my friend, or they can take the gamble I took and invest a lot of time and money in a degree that gives them only a CHANCE to aspire to better.  If they’re lucky, that chance may pay off.  These people are not 90% of those who try, they may not even be the norm at all (a lot depends on the specific field they want, of course).  And for those who fail?  They can either give up and live like my friend (only with student loan debt and many good years of their life wasted), or they can do like me and toss aside any hopes of a family or an independent life.

And that’s not how things should be.  The choice should not be “90 hours of hard labor to make a life for yourself” or “gamble and pray you make it, and if you don’t, give up the hope of a family or independence.”

I’m not sure if I can pinpoint the exact moment the “American Dream” was butchered.  Obviously the big crash in 2008 was when the sword of Damocles officially impaled the Dream, but it had been descending inexorably toward its target since long before that.  Whenever it was, the end result is that anyone who hasn’t already made it (and was lucky enough to keep it) needs to be lucky to make any kind of life for him or herself.  And I’m not ok with that.  I’m not ok with losing my chance for a life when a pretty basic one was all I ever wanted.  Truth is, even if my luck changed and I made it in my field next month, it’s already too late for me.

Usually I try to wrap up with a line that, depressing or not, is mildly amusing, at least to me.  This time, all I have is “fuck.”

A million little generals

I’ve mentioned before that sometimes I feel like I’m not cut out for this.  One of the main reasons I especially feel discouraged lately is because I simply cannot find a full job description that does not use a buzzword like “innovative” or “leader.”

A popular saying is that you either lead, follow, or get out of the way.  I’ll gladly do options two or three, but I am not into option one.  And as for being an innovator, are you kidding me?  How?  I have no idea how to reinvent the wheel.  If I were that smart… I’d be able to think of a witty way to end this sentence. 

No, as a matter of fact I’m not on the bleeding edge of today’s technology.  I’m not sure how you expect me to be when I can’t even get a decent job to begin with.  I don’t get to throw money around on things that are impractical for my own personal use.  When I don’t even own a smart phone, I’m obviously not going to know how to design apps for it.  And no, a webinar isn’t going to fill that knowledge gap when the technology itself is only theoretical in my world.

But I’m sorry, that paragraph looked like I’m shifting the blame to my circumstances.  My original point, however, is that I’m not that person.  I’m not inventing things.  I’m not shaking up the status quo.  I’m not thinking of exciting new things that have never been done. I’m not that smart.  We can’t all be leaders and trailblazers in the field, right?  Don’t there have to be some of us to follow you, or get out of your way?

To be clear, I am perfectly willing to do exactly that—“get out of your way.”  I do not intend to be an obstacle for people who want to do new things.  I don’t want to be the one grumbling at change because it’s more work.  If you can improve something, great, I’ll get in line.  Only problem is, it doesn’t seem like there’s a line to get into.

You would think the trailblazers would need people in line, but judging by the job descriptions I see, everyone is expected to be a leader, an innovator, a general. 

Maybe it speaks of an internal insecurity in the librarian world.  Some laypersons still view the library as “musty old books” that are hopelessly behind the times.  And some of that probably is justified.  I once attended a workshop given by a library futurist (my apologies, her name escapes me) who said that her job is easy, because all she has to do is look at what the rest of the world is already doing.

So maybe this is why those job descriptions tend to overcompensate by calling for every position, from the ground up, to be stuffed with people filled with new ideas.  But how serious about that are they, and where does that leave me?

I’m only a person.  I’m not out to reinvent an industry or think of new ways of doing things.  I couldn't if I wanted to.  I’m an ordinary, everyday person who just wants to do a day’s work and get a day’s pay.  Is there— especially in this economy— any space out there for someone like me?  And I suppose the question people considering a career in librarianship need to ask themselves is, is there room for you? 

Who are you?  Have you always been inspired by people who have thrown buzzwords at you about thinking outside the box?  Are you the brilliant kind of person who could revolutionize an industry and think of ways to do your job that no one in human history thought of before you?  Are you on the bleeding edge of technology to the point where you can tinker even further with it to do things that haven’t been done yet?  Or are you, like me, a regular person who just wanted what seemed like a decent, respectable job that wasn’t too strenuous for a weak body?

If it’s the latter I wish you luck, and hope you can manage to survive where I apparently can’t.  Because it’s getting harder and harder to find leaders who will let you line up behind them, rather than leave you behind.

I have dignity. Well.... I know OF dignity.

I wrote previously in my blog about the unfortunate necessity for some people to don a mask during interviews.  How we obviously should be able to be ourselves for the best interest of both ourselves and the employer, but the reality is shy people would never have a fighting chance if we could be ourselves, so we have to fake it.  No matter who we are, we all go into interviews as outgoing, smiley, pleasant people who fucking love work more than we love food.

That was one example of how (without lying, of course) we do have to make believe things in interviews that we know aren't true.  However, there's another example of make believe that goes on in interviews, only in this case, BOTH parties know it's a lie.  This is the part where we ask the employer questions because "we're interviewing them as much as they're interviewing us."

Ask anyone for interviewing advice, and that's on the short list.  "Remember, you're interviewing them, too."  We are-- supposedly-- sizing them up, getting a feel for the environment, and deciding if that place is good enough for us.  The employers expect it too-- after all, if we're worth hiring, we can't be some desperate shlub, we need to be the cream of the crop.  They should be wooing us.

Look, I understand we should ask questions just because we should have some curiosities of a place we may potentially work, but when I have to make believe that I'm an indispensable talent who is taking my expertise only to the very best place of business, I feel like I'm insulting their intelligence and my own.

Maybe there are people in even the library world like that.  People with 20 years of experience who have run organizations, written books, given world famous (or, library famous) lectures around the country, and slain mimes with their adamantium claws.  And if any of that were true of me, it would be on my fucking resume.  Especially the claw thing.

No, I am most definitely and hilariously NOT in any position to "interview them as much as they're interviewing me," and it's laughable that I have to go through that charade.  I know it and they know it, but there we sit, both politely pretending otherwise for no reason other than blind tradition, or perhaps to give them something to snicker about later.  We in the library world-- all of us, you, me, and them-- know exactly how royally fucked our job market is.  I am in absolutely no position to turn down a full time job, no matter how terrible the place is, and I'd venture to say few librarians and NO new or new-ish librarians are.  If participation in their annual cactus hugging contest were a mandatory condition of hire, I would hug the crap out of some cacti and tearfully thank them for showing me more love than this career ever has.

I'm expected to work 50 hours a week for no extra pay?  I have to work mornings the days after working nights every single week?  Second shift?  You have a little asbestos problem?  I need to be on call 24/7?  Turning my grimace into a smile, I say sign me up.

That's life.  We're in an employer's market, and this is especially true of the library world.  They have the work force by the short hairs, if you can forgive an expression that makes me cringe as well, and most of us are in absolutely no position to "interview" them and say "ehhhh, sorry but I'm looking for something on a tenure track," or "oooh, sorry but I was kind of hoping for a liberal arts college that offers a few Master's degrees as well."  Yeah, right.

On one hand, it's not as unfortunate as having to pretend we're not the people we really are, and that instead we're outgoing, upbeat folks with a smile permanently on our lips.  But on the other hand, it is a bit more insulting, since both sides of the table know better this time.  These are desperate times and aspiring librarians are desperate people.  Can we just drop the act?  I'll still ask questions for curiosity's sake, but must I-- must I-- insult your intelligence by acting like I have any remote power of negotiation here?

I am your willing bitch.

Map to failure

When I started this blog years ago, I didn't know I'd still be at it by this time.  The mess of an economy I walked into has now stolen nearly six years of my life, and the meter is still running.  I have plenty more posts left in me, but as a placeholder until I have more time, I'd like to revisit one of my first posts.  I had a map where I was keeping track of all the states I got rejected from in my quest to become a financially independent librarian, declaring that my new goal was to fill it out completely, so that I could declare that every single one of these United States has told me individually that they want nothing to do with me (since the goal of gainful employment is unattainable for a librarian these days, I may as well focus on something doable).

After my hard drive died a while back I replaced that ugly map with a much sleeker one, now filling in a blank US map rather than crossing out the states in a full map.  It looks much better, I think.  You'll also notice it is now quite a bit more full:

I only have 18 more states to go.  As you can see, I can now travel the country from coast to coast in an unbroken path of states that have been specific about not wanting me to stay.

Some of these states will be harder than others.  Florida is not the hardest state to find openings in, I only need to find one I actually seem right for.  Montana, on the other hand, rarely has openings.  The hardest spots to fill, I think, will be:

-Montana
-Hawaii
-West Virginia
-Rhode Island
-New Mexico

Alaska might be pretty tough, too.  Florida and Nebraska are only a matter of time.

Not very great expectations

We who have been looking at postings for librarian jobs for a long time have long been aware of how laughably optimistic some employers are of the kinds of applicants they're going to find.  More than a decade's worth of experience, a second Master's degree (in a specific particular field, no less), and willing to work 50-60 hours a weeks for just under 30,000 dollars.  That's a worst case scenario, of course, but I've actually seen postings that hit three out of four of those.  Clearly, some people would do well to lower their expectations.  Yes, this is an employer's market and you've got your pick of the litter right now, but sometimes the future Westminster winner you're hoping for just isn't going to be out there.

Now, we job hunters often have a snicker over those job posts, typically before sighing heavily, taking another belt of our favorite drink (hemlock), and throwing ourselves off the roof.  And yet, I rarely hear laughter, complaints, or head scratching about employers on the opposite side of the fence, and it's strange to me because I see them constantly.  I mean those employers who pretend to have no standards whatsoever, even though they clearly need someone with a pretty substantial wealth of experience.

These jobs are extremely easy to identify.  Any time you see a job described simply as "Librarian," you've just found one.  What kind of librarian?  Reference?  Instruction?  Collection development?  Cataloging?  Would this be a supervisory position, perhaps?  Would I be in charge of the website, or be the liaison to the instructors?  The answer is all of the above.  "Librarian" more or less means "you're gonna be the only one here. do it all."  Now that's the kind of job I wouldn't expect to get without 5 years or more of progressively greater responsibility in the library world, having moved my way up to a management position at the very least.  Maybe I wouldn't expect to need a second Master's in Oriental Medicine or whatever, but obviously I should be ready to tackle a huge range of tasks with little to no direction.

I see these jobs all the time.  "Librarian."  "Librarian."  "Librarian."  That vague title that simply means "every kind of librarian you can think of, you're running the show, champ."  And yet every single one of those jobs I see asks for the exact same qualifications: "An ALA accredited Master's degree in Library Science."  That's it.  As if someone who just walked out of library school is perfectly capable of captaining the ship themselves.

What I'd like to know is, are they honestly considering people with no experience?  Is what they list as their qualifications really all that matters to them?  Or are they doing a complete 180 from the laughably optimistic employers above, so afraid of raising their standards too high that they drop all standards altogether for the initial job posting, and simply weed out the inexperienced ones once they've collected the resumes?  In short, just what the fucking fuck is up with these jobs?  I don't suppose anyone in the know can shed some light on this for us long-suffering job hunters?

And if these jobs secretly do have standards, could we maybe see more middle ground between the "I expect a librarian who can ride in on a unicorn, holding the Holy Grail" employers and the "we need someone who can do everything, but fuck it, we're too afraid to ask for more than a degree" employers?  Please?  I understand your perspective as someone who is concerned about raising the bar too high, but maybe you could understand my perspective as someone who is a little burned out after spending over five years applying for job after job after job afterjobafterjobafterjob,  and maybe agree not to waste my time if I don't have the experience you're secretly looking for.  Just an idea, throwing it out there.

Talk about the passion

Everyone knows that when you interview for a position you’re not entirely yourself.  I’m not saying you lie during interviews.  At least I don’t and I hope you don’t either, since you’re competing with me for jobs.  But while we don’t lie, of course what we present isn’t entirely representative of ourselves.  If it were, introverts would never get jobs.  Nor would anyone who dares to want a job for the money more than anything.  And since people need money to, you know, live, there aren’t many people for whom the money isn’t one of the top draws.  And then there are people like me who are just desperate to have a full time job in a horrible economy, but we’re sure as hell not allowed to be honest about being desperate.  No, if we had to show our true faces during an interview, no one would ever work.

So what’s the hardest part for me to fake?  I can hide my desperation, I hope.  At least, I don’t come right out and say I’m desperate, or that I need the job, or I need the money.  I can also generally hide the fact that I’m shy, given that there’s not much chance for me to show that I am.

Nope, I would say the hardest thing for me to fake is passion.  Having to act like “Oh my God, I LOVE being a librarian and it makes me so HAPPY to do this!”

 I used to be able to feel something like that long ago, before my current job broke my spirit by degrading me in every way at every opportunity.  But even back then the feeling would be ephemeral.  The truth is, I am not a passionate person.  Not about anything.  In fact, I’ve gone my whole life wondering if there was something wrong with me because it seems like everyone else can feel so strongly for things, and I never could.  I can enjoy things, but not enough that I’d want to do them for the better half of my waking day, five days a week, no matter how I feel and no matter what else I could be doing.  I can’t understand the mentality of anyone who could love anything that much.

There are things I can say I used to have a passion for, but I couldn’t sustain it.  Art, for example.  I was one of those kids who was always in at least two art classes any given semester throughout high school.  Then it just stopped, and when it did it was like a light switch.  One day art was my thing, and the next day I had no desire to draw or paint, and I knew I never would again.  And I never did.  Sorry I never used that easel you bought me, grandma.

I have no tattoos and I strongly doubt I ever will, because there’s nothing I care about so much that I’d want it on my body for the rest of my life.  Honestly, I kind of think people are idiots when they get band tattoos, because surely someday they’ll be 40 and explaining “oh yeah, that’s just the logo of some band I used to be really into.”  But band logos aside, some people apparently just love some things so much and know they always will to the point that they’ll draw it on themselves permanently.  And I know I never will.

When I first started to do fieldwork, I got a rush from helping people directly.  Instruction work made me feel like a rock star.  Now?  I spend every moment I’m not at work dreading going to work.  If I could have sustained that passion under normal conditions, I sure as hell couldn’t do it working in a place like this.

But I know that when I go into an interview, I have to spend all of my energy trying to put myself back in a place where I had that passion and enthusiasm, when in reality all I really want is to get a full time salary so I can live whatever little scraps of life I’m allowed to have on a full time schedule, and if I’m really lucky, do it in a place that doesn’t degrade me on a daily basis.  I just want to live my life and get by, that's all.  Yet there I am, forcing myself to pretend to be upbeat and enthusiastic for half an hour or more.

And it is fucking exhausting.

I still think there’s something wrong with me.  I still don’t understand why I can’t feel like normal people.  Why I’m so fucking broken that I can’t love things and activities unconditionally.  I can find interests, I can enjoy things, but there will never be anything that I eat, breathe, and sleep, and want to be my life.  Never.

What piece of the soul am I missing that everyone else has?

Where jobs grow on jobees.

I said I couldn't do it.  I couldn't face one more semester in this hostile work environment, especially not with Spring approaching, notoriously the worst time of the year for student behavior.

Did anyone really think things would turn out differently for me than they always have?  Of course I'm on the schedule again... and it turns out I'm not the only one who has asked/begged not to be placed on this particular campus again due to the student behavior, ensuring that I will be shoved into this slot over and over as more people leave, since I don't have the luxury of demanding to be placed at a different campus "or else I won't come back."  I don't have another job.  I need the money.  I'm the only one willing to take this kind of abuse.  Well, not "willing" exactly, but I don't have a choice.

The "good news" if there is any, is I'll only have one section, and on Saturday morning.  This leaves me lots of free time and flexibility to find and work another job, maybe some crap minimum wage job that will undoubtedly suck, but will probably be less stressful and pay as much or more.  There's only one small problem with that.  It would have to be possible for me to find another job, even a crap one.

I've always "loved" how people say "get a job" as if it's just that simple.  We no longer live in an age where you can walk into any store and remove the 'help wanted' sign from the window, and you have a job.  We no longer even live in an age where you can walk into a McDonald's, fill out an application, and automatically get that job.  And I'm someone with reliable transportation, no convictions, and an able (if crappy) body... I'm what used to be the bare criteria for hire-ability in a dead end job.. but none of that cuts it anymore.  Just "get a job"?  Only one reply seems appropriate to that condescending advice...


So this summer, I strap on my job helmet and finally search for some crappy, dead-end minimum wage job, since this whole library science thing worked out so well.  Wish me luck.  Or death, I'll take death, actually...

I'll think of an awesome title for this someday.

A little something I just composed.  I'll probably kick myself later for posting it because I like to tinker with things for a long time and I'm sure I'll decide later that it looks better another way, maybe add a verse or two, and I'll definitely think of a way better title (currently I have none), but screw it, here it goes:

What can you do when

An economy collapses?

You send out your resume

But you won’t get any chances

You did well in school,

Hoped you’d be a success.

But soon you’ll be forced to

Eat your MLIS

The years still go by

And you’ve had no luck yet.

Your life has been ruined from

Your massive student debt

You flip burgers for nothing

But yet you’re still trying.

You’ve lost all your hope,

But you keep on applying

Maybe someday when

You’re a septuagenarian

You’ll be able to say that:

“I am a librarian.”

The ice is getting thinner

Please bear with me.  As I mentioned not long ago, I recently lost all of the posts I'd written out prior to starting the blog.  This style of typing up a post as I think of it instead of "perfecting" it weeks or months in advance is a little alien to me.  Hopefully this won't hurt the quality that I'm pretending my posts used to have.

I have just entered the new semester, and I hope to God it is my last.  Obviously I've always been hopeful of that just because I was hoping I'd get a full time job in the field.  By now I've given up on that hope and I'm looking for literally anything else so that I'll never have to teach at this place again.  If I can find a job flipping burgers at Wal-Mart I will take it and never look back.

I mentioned before the behavior issues the students have, especially in this post:

http://failedlibrarian.blogspot.com/2012/12/paying-dues-when-doing-doesnt-pay.html

(skip down to "the workplace environment...")

I would love to go into more specific details, but quite frankly I'd be giving away too much if I did.  In the off chance anyone who knows the school were to read this, they'd know which school I'm talking about, because this kind of crap couldn't possibly happen at any other college.

Next semester will be Spring semester, and I have never had a good experience in Spring.  I don't know what it is, maybe it's the heat, but for some reason Spring brings out the most antagonistic, combative, and hostile students, and every single one of them ends up in my classroom.  I can't face that again, I just can't.  I can't, I can't, I can't.

Unfortunately I'm still wrestling with one not-so-minor problem.  Being a librarian is all I know how to do.  I don't have extensive experience in anything else.  If anything, I'm pretty sure that having a Master's degree hurts my chances of getting a job at a gas station or something.  And much to my detriment, I'm one of the apparently few people who isn't smart enough to hide that kind of thing.  It would just mean too many white lies during the interview.  Maybe not all white.  Maybe a few greenish ones, or even a crimson one.  I'm just not very comfortable with lying.

This is all I know how to do, and all I've ever done for any serious length of time.  I'm a librarian, I'm not qualified to flip burgers.  Where can I go?  The clock to Spring has begun...