The ugly wall.

An update from my last post to begin:

First, I did not get that job I mentioned I'd applied for toward the end.  I did apparently do well enough to get an in-person interview and for them to ask me to consent to a background check, but it was just another case of "close but nothing," and as we know, close doesn't count for anything.  All nothings are equal, no matter how close to something that nothing was.

But the "good news" is that I actually do have a section of my usual job to teach after all; a section got added three days before the start of the semester, so I got it.  It's not going well for various reasons that I suppose would be tangential to get into, so I won't.

What I will get into is another reason I said "good news" in quotation marks above: namely, the fact that this job is no longer a sustainable option for me.

Now that they got rid of one of the two courses I'm qualified to teach, I can no longer count on this job to keep me in the black.  Time was that I could usually count on two sections per semester, and now I'm lucky if I get one.  Getting one is by no means guaranteed at all, and even if I were lucky enough to get just one per semester, that does not keep me in the black if I want any kind of entertainment budget.

I still have enough savings that I can keep this rate of pay up for quite a while, but I really don't want to see myself hemorrhaging all the safety net money I've worked so long to shore up.

So this brings me back to that age old question I've been asking myself ever since I began this blog in 2012: when do I finally stop throwing good years after bad, accept that it's time to walk away, and find some crap low-pay job that at least pays better than the job in my field I have now so I can join the ranks of the working poor where I clearly belong, according to the library profession that will not have me?

If I were smart, clearly I would have done this years ago.  But here's the thing.

I'm going to take you back to a time long ago, when I was in high school.  I don't like going back to this time, so I will try not to stay long.  But here's a story that relates to the problem I have today.

In high school, I had a friend.  I know, I'm surprised too.  Let's keep going.  I'd walk home from school with this friend every day.  I was about a 12 minute walk from home, and for him tack on another minute or so.

This friend started dating someone.  So it goes.  One day he told me he'd be out soon, that I could wait for him.  He was going to make out with this person in the cafeteria, where people cooler than me often hung out at the end of the day.  I didn't understand why the cool kids wanted to hang out at school of all places when the day was done, but whatever.

So I'm sitting at my locker, non-existent butt aching from the hard tile floor,  staring at the very ugly wall in front of me.  For 15 minutes.  20.  30.  45.  An hour.  Longer.

I don't remember how long I ended up waiting, but it was long enough for me to be justifiably mad.  He never came out to tell me, "just go on without me," because he figured that after 10 minutes I'd have figured that out for myself.

The problem wasn't that I was "too stupid" to figure out myself that I should just walk the 12 minutes home alone, like that's a big deal.  The problem was that I was always afraid that if I left, it could be literally three seconds after I walked away that he might have come back out of the cafeteria.  And every second longer I stayed, the more likely it was that the next second would finally be the one.  It wasn't that staying was the "smart" move, it was just the fear that, after having invested so much time into waiting, I could be throwing that away when just one more second might have made all of that waiting, while a waste, at least not a complete waste.  At least all of the time I'd spent staring at the wall wouldn't be for nothing.

That's where I am now.  I'm 34.  I've lost.  I'm too old to accomplish the non-career goals I had in life (which were more important that my career goals to me).  It's over.  My life is ruined because of all of this waiting for my MLIS to pay off so I could finally pursue those goals.  At this point I should probably just cut my losses, join the working poor, and while away the end of my life because there's fuck else for me to do.

Yet here I sit staring at an ugly wall, because if I walk away now, I'll never know if waiting just one more month would have finally made all of these years something less than a complete waste.

The happiest of holiday news...

My situation for the past 6+ years has been that I’m a severely underemployed librarian; I teach info lit as an adjunct and make just enough to cover gas, car insurance, and student loans with a little leftover for a CD (because I’m old) or a bottle of scotch (because I’m awesome) or whatever now and then.  Meanwhile I'm living with my parents at 34 because after that I have not enough money left for food and rent because my life choice to be a librarian was terrible, which is what my entire blog is about. 

OK, so my situation has changed.  For the next 4 months of my life (at least) I am not an underemployed librarian anymore! No, I’m just straight up unemployed now, and just in time for the holidays.  Yeah, so that has now happened.  There wasn’t room for me on the schedule for next semester.

To be clear, this is not because of my performance.  As far as adjuncts go, I tend to be taken care of, in part because my boss is nice and knows my life sucks, but also in part because I’m actually pretty darn good at what I do.  No, the enrollment just wasn’t high enough and the full timers need to be put on the schedule first, so I’m out.

And now I get to figure out what to do for four months, and this is not wonderful.  My options for employment outside of my field are just about as good as options inside my field, which is one of the several reasons that supplementing my income with another part time job hasn’t been an option to begin with.

Problem one: I am a very small, weak person.  Last I stepped on a scale, I was 108 lbs of nothing that even remotely resembled a muscle.  I have a frame and a back that were simply not designed for digging ditches, hauling pig iron, or pulling rickshaws.  Hard physical labor is not an option.

Problem two: I have very little in the way of experience in anything outside of my field.  An office job would be doable—in fact I kind of enjoy mindless data entry.  But how often exactly do you see office jobs that don’t require years of experience?  I do have a couple years of very part-time experience in an office, but that organization has since folded (not my fault, promise), and my old boss is, um, probably dead.  That was not a joke, by the way; I think she literally died.  The organization was the two of us—her as the executive and me as the assistant—so there’s really no one around to prove I ever did it, much less speak to whether or not I was any good at it.

Problem three: I can also cross giving blood off the list.  I looked into it and you apparently need to be at least 110 lbs, and you can refer to problem one to see why that’s a no go.  That’s right; I’m not even qualified to give blood.

So I’m seeing three options in front of me.

Option one: Coincidentally, before this crap went down I applied to another crap, no pay, horrible hours job in my field that would put me behind a reference desk in an academic library, and I just had a phone interview that wasn’t a disaster as far as I could tell, so maybe I’ll get this job.  Putting aside the hours that will see me being awake for 18-19 hours straight on Sundays and then driving home at night in that sleep deprived state, this would actually be pretty great in the fact that it would give me more varied experience for my resume.

Option two: Cashier.  I wouldn’t be making much money, but “literally better than nothing” is pretty much my only salary requirement right now, and this is something I could physically handle that wouldn't necessarily require a lot of experience.  I would not love this job, but a librarian’s gotta do what a librarian’s gotta do (and in most cases this means “anything but actually be a librarian”).

Option three: Start studying science.  Master the field.  Invent a time machine, go back to me at 22 and tell myself, “DON’T BECOME A FUCKING LIBRARIAN.”

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.

Fore.

Well...

I Recently mentioned that I had applied for two jobs.  In that post I was unusually positive, because I'm giving up negativity for lent.  Lent is not over, so this is going to be another unusually positive post.  I'm actually rather reluctant to make posts like this, because I'm really messing with the formula here.  If anyone comes here, it is not for positive vibes.  In fact, after all these years I've definitely frightened away anybody who doesn't have the patience to commiserate with a miserable sad sack.  If you're here, it's likely because of, not in spite of, the fact that I am a gigantic bummer.

So... my apologies to those who get a kick out of me being wretched.  But the good news is that I think this shift in attitude has been good for me.  I'm not wallowing in a pit of despair, for one.  For another thing, well......

I got an interview for one of those jobs I applied for.  First a phone interview, and then an in-person interview.

Now, I'm not saying this happened because of the power of positive thinking or any such nonsense.  But not being able to crawl into negativity has definitely made the experience much easier.

Typically I would have spent the entire time leading up to the interview freaking the absolute holy fuck out and generally having anxiety attacks.  Instead, I pushed those thoughts out of my head and told myself, "I know what I'm doing, I've got this."  Then I'd be freaking the absolute holy fuck out with self-doubt, thinking that I can't do this, that even if I get the job I'll only make a fool of myself, that I'll be forced to throw myself on a sword after my colossal failure.  Once again, not this time.  Just, "I've got this."  Worst of all, these self-doubts and anxiety attacks would have possibly lead to some form of self-sabotage.  I'll even admit I fleetingly had the thought: "maybe I should just turn the job down if they offer it to me."  I chased that one away fast.

The in-person interview was today.  It was the best in-person interview I've ever had.  I had an answer for every question.  My experience impressed them, and it seemed to me that more than anything they wanted someone with my kind of experience to come in and do exactly what I know can do-- and I do mean know, not just a case of telling myself it'll be ok this time.  My presentation went well--  everyone laughed at the right times and one of the professors even said I taught him a new trick with the databases.  I made what was, for me, an admirable attempt to mix in with the conversation and be part of the group.  I asked a lot of questions that they seemed to think were good questions.  The event was planned for three hours, though it was said that it would likely not go that long.  However, it nearly did, lasting 2 hours and 45 minutes.

So what I'm saying is, I brought my A game.

Interviews are like golf.  There's no defense.  Until I see the leaderboard, I have no way of knowing how the others are even doing.  I can't control for how well anyone else did, so I can't say I think it was a slam dunk or anything.  I may have just had my best in-person interview, and maybe the person before me had their best, and their best was a little better.  I don't know.  What I do know is that I stepped up to the tee and made solid contact with the ball.  And now I kind of feel like I can golf.

I'd been telling myself, in the spirit of staying positive, that this interview would be a good thing no matter what.  It showed me that if I cast my line, it's at least possible I'll get a nibble.  And this happened with one of the first two jobs I applied for after forcing myself to get back into the game.  Even if I had blown the interview, I would look at this as a positive (since, you know, I literally can't complain).

But I didn't blow the interview.  I hit the fucking golf ball.  So now the positive is that, again, I know I can do this.  I know that I can be lucky enough to get an interview, and then actually have a good interview.  Which means I can get a job in this field, with the right amount of luck.  That's my downside right now.

The upside.... maybe I'll actually get this one.

The location and the hours look wonderful.  I'd only be an hour away from my current home so I wouldn't have to never see my friends again.  I'd only have to work half-time in the Summer.  The city seems... not overly exciting, but most of my entertainment is indoors anyway.  The other people there seemed pleasant.  As long as that whole "having to throw myself on a samurai sword" thing doesn't happen, I'm thinking this would work for me,

So... here's hoping.

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.”

Calculating infinity

Followers of this blog (i.e., me) know that there has been a recent improvement in the number of interviews I've managed to get.  Those of you just tuning in, let me get you up to speed:

My MLIS was earned in May 2008.  I had one interview for a full time position that year.  There was, luckily, that less than halftime position that took me on, which is how I've been lucky enough to have been getting experience since then (although, not gainful employment).

In 2009 I had no interviews.  That's right, an entire year went by of applying to positions all over the country, and not one single person interviewed me.  For an entire year.

Then that happened again in 2010.  Then in 2011.  Then most of 2012.

Yes, seriously.  Four straight years SOLID of applying to jobs and not one single place would even grant me an interview.  That was one hell of a streak.

Then something happened.  After five years of paying my dues at my less than halftime job, I managed to get an interview in October 2012.  By the same time a year later I had had two more.  And one of them went all the way to round three before I was obliterated.  Then another one in May of this year, and finally, one I have yet to mention, another web interview for a position in Arkansas last month (which I obviously didn't get).

So all together that's:

08=1
09=0
10=0
11=0
12=1
13=2
14=2 (so far, just past half in).

Let's put aside the fact that seven sets of numbers doesn't reveal a pattern.  If these numbers were completely random, this would mean nothing.  But they're not completely random.  My increased experience is a factor, and what these numbers reflect is that opportunity is increasing for me.

...Or is it?

You see, I have a fear that I touched on before, but it especially bears repeating now.  The fear is that my experience is actually worthless.  True, the number of years I have on my resume is opening some doors as far as getting to the interview is concerned.  But what happens when I'm in the interview and they start asking me about what I've done so far?

Here's what they'll discover: 100% of that experience is just instruction.  that's it.  Sure I can say that helping students one on one in the classroom counts as reference, but no one seems to buy that.  I put it out there every single time, and every single time I can tell the interviewers consider it a stretch, even if they don't say it.  And if I want to say I've done collection development I have to go all the way back to my fieldwork and volunteer experience about 4 years ago.  If they want to know about my experience marketing the library, or cataloging, or programming, I've got nothin'.

I've been working in this field for 5 years, and aside from a short time doing fieldwork and volunteering, none of it has been in the library.  And this is what is being discovered about me when I interview.  So while I'm getting more interviews, I'm not sure if my current amount of experience is actually valuable at all in terms of actually landing a job.

As it is I'm limited to applying for academic instruction positions.  That's where my experience is, and I've now been typecast in that role.  I have never gotten an interview for a public library, even an "entry level" position (although, I don't really believe there is such a thing as a true "entry level" position anymore, since you need experience for any job you apply to).  I haven't even been interviewed for the position of page or shelver in a public library, and oh yes, I have sunk low enough to apply to those.  As far as academic libraries go, it has been all instruction.  And that's fine, I like instruction.  But there's still that matter of actually landing the job.

The bad news, again, is that my experience may be like that woman who only looks good from far away.  Once the employers get my resume up close, they may be shuddering upon seeing its acne, lazy eye, and 5 o' clock shadow.  At this point I have no idea if what I've been doing is "good enough" to get me a real job.  Ever.

At this point an optimist would say that the interview increase is still good news, because even without great experience I can now go in and sell myself.  For people with natural salesmanship, this would indeed be good news.  For someone who is a salesmanship black hole, on the other hand, this is not good news.  And guess which one I am.

On the road again

I didn't realize it had been so long since my last update.  Work has been busier than usual somehow, but hopefully I can get back to my goal of updating this at least once a month.  No promises, though.

Since you last heard of me I had yet another on-site job interview.  Yes, really.  I think at this point I can say I have confirmed that crossing the 5-year experience mark is making a huge difference.  Within the past year I have now had 4 interviews, which comes after about 4 years in a row of having exactly zero interviews.

This time I only had to travel 3 hours to get there (and another 3 back, of course), so unlike This interview I didn't have to stay the night.  No bill for an inn, no bill for a dinner out, just the cost of the gas for six hours of travel.  And here's the crazy part: they reimbursed me.  The place where I shelled out all that additional money made no offer to do so, but this one where I spent almost nothing in comparison?  They're willing to pick up the check.  I actually could have spent the night and had a meal on them, but I didn't know they'd reimburse me.  And that's ok, because I didn't have the time anyway.  I had time to drive there, do the interview, and drive back, getting it all out of the way in one shot.

So the good news to you aspiring librarians is that not every out of state interview will be on your own dime.  Just some of them.

Oh, I didn't get the job, by the way.  I probably should have lead with that, but I figured that was the least shocking part of the news.  On the shock scale, me not getting a job rates somewhere between "the sun came up" and "bacon is still delicious," while me being reimbursed for my interview expenses rates somewhere between "I got through a day without wishing for death" and "Jesus came back, and it turns out he was Japanese the whole time."

This time I feel less bad about missing out on the job, since it wasn't the millions-to-one job I missed last time.  But I realized something distressing in that bit of seemingly good news:  I'm never going to want a job that badly again.  From now on, every single interview will be entered into half-heartedly.

Maybe that's a good thing.  In some ways, interviewing might be like dating; if you're desperate, it shows, and it's a major turn-off.  And like dating, the more you need the job, the longer you've gone without one, the more desperate you are.  It's a cruel catch 22.  The only way out, it seems, it to reach the point where you're so demoralized that you've given up deep down.  Only when you stop actually giving a fuck about whether or not you get the thing do you have a chance to get it.

I don't know yet where exactly the interview went wrong.  It didn't seem to go badly.  I thought I gave good answers, and they didn't seem to show any facial expressions or body language to indicate that they thought I was a train wreck (and I have a good natural ability to read these things).  But I also did get the impression that they wrote me off during the interview.  For one thing (among a few others), they said the next step was to call references, but they never called mine.  So maybe I said or did something wrong.  Or, maybe they simply had their heart set on someone else who came in before me (I was the last to interview).  I will try to work up the courage to contact them soon and ask if there was a misstep I made that I can correct in the future, but I still haven't heard official word of my rejection, and I think it would be good form to do so.

In the meantime, I am now days away from the new semester starting in my current job, the one I hoped to Japanese Jesus I wouldn't have to go back to.

Save me.

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.

Swimming against the current

When I was just finishing up library school and getting ready to face the nonexistent odds of attracting an employer’s attention with very little experience to my name, a friend in the field let me know about the one positive I could look at, namely my currency.  “You’ll be more current than the person who hires you.”  That was the bright side back in mid 2008, and now it’s an edge I’m rapidly losing.  At this point-- five monkey-fucking years into my search for a full time position-- it’s no longer completely ridiculous to think I may actually be less current than the person who will hire me.  Don’t get me wrong, I am more than happy to trade that dull edge for my five years of experience (even if it’s just as an adjunct instructor), I’m merely reflecting on how ridiculous it is that I may get my first full time job from someone who is an even more recent graduate than I am.

I also need to consider at this point, how current am I really?  I have to admit, aside from the word “festschrift,” I remember roughly jack about cataloging.  I may remember using Dreamweaver in my digital libraries class, but I don’t really remember how at this point.  What I’m saying is I’ve lost a lot of the knowledge from all those years ago.  Not exactly current.

Besides, after five years, is any of it really still “current” anyway?  Perhaps you could call it “more current” than ten years ago, but a closer miss is still a miss.  “Current” today seems to revolve a lot around mobile devices and apps.  There were no courses on using either of these things to a library’s advantage when I was in school.  Nowadays, however, I see a lot of jobs calling for knowledge of mobile devices, and even experience with designing apps.  That sort of thing is far out of my league, and always will be.  You see, I don’t freaking have a mobile device and have never used an app.  And this is a place where I’m going to have to draw the line and be left behind.  I am simply not going to pay for a device and a monthly fee that I really can’t afford for a product that I don’t have a personal need for and do not want, just to be able to say I know my way around mobile devices and apps.  Librarians like to talk about the digital divide, and this is where I’m a victim of it; I’m being left behind because of the tacit expectation that I’m electronically keeping up with the Joneses, and am willing and able to spend all the money it would take to do so.

I’m not a neoluddite.  I know how to use IM, I know how to create profiles on social media, and I’m obviously on a computer right now (with Windows 7).  But holy crap, people have got to be able to draw the line somewhere, and for me it’s paying a monthly bill for something I don’t even want, just to have the latest technology.  But again, this decreases my currency even further in terms value in the job hunt.  How long do I have to land a job somewhere before I'm considered so out of date that my odds of being hired go from one in 999 trillion to a flat zero?

Have I actually become a dinosaur in my field before ever landing a full time (or even half time) job?

FML

So, my hard disk died.  I had almost nothing backed up.  The disk is so thoroughly fucked that it would cost 1200-1500 to even attempt to repair it.

What does that have to do with this blog?  Well, aside from having had several blog posts written out in a word doc in advance, I also had my cover letter templates on that disk.  Yet another beautiful setback in my job hunting, like I needed one.

I also lost some statistics I was keeping, such as a list of every job I applied to.

This is all really the least of what I lost, but it's the only part relevant to my blog, so I'll leave it at that.

Idiot Wind

If I were trying to get to know someone and could only ask that person a single question, it would be “What’s your favorite Bob Dylan song?”

Bob Dylan touches a lot on the human experience.  It’s impossible to go through his catalog without finding something that really touches you, really strikes a nerve with you in particular, and seems to be talking directly to you.  For that reason I think that discovering someone’s favorite Dylan song can really tell you a lot about about them, what their experiences have been, and what kind of thing really strikes a nerve with them. 

Besides, anyone who doesn’t care for Bob Dylan probably isn’t someone worth talking to.

My favorite Dylan song is Idiot Wind (the original, from the Blood on the Tracks album).  Absolutely nobody can sing contempt like Bob Dylan and the way this song starts out is a good example.  But that’s not the main reason it’s my favorite, it’s just a strong supporting reason.  There are actually several good supporting reasons, but I’m going to jump to the main one:

You didn’t know it,
you didn’t think it could be done,
in the final end he won the war.
After losing every battle.

Every time I grab that album to listen to on the way to work I hear that song as though hearing it for the first time.  When it comes on I know I’m about to hear my favorite song by one of my favorite artists, and yet I always seem to forget that I’m about to hear that specific line.  And when I hear it, it’s all I can do not to break down and cry when everything it means to me comes flooding back.

For so many years that one line has spoken to me more than anything else.  It was my only hope, after all.  Life post grad school has been rejection after rejection after rejection, for years.  Every single battle lost.  It was always encouraging to think that it was possible, even after racking up nothing but losses, to win the war in the end.

My belief in that may be weakening over time.  Lately it seems like even if I do win the war, who cares?  I’ve been fighting so long that the end of the war isn’t going to be glorious or romantic.  It’s going to be missing limbs, misery, and unstable conditions for the region.  It has turned into the kind of war where no one wins and everyone loses.

After all, I already feel like I’m too old to still have time to get what I really wanted out of life, but can’t go for until my financial situation is in order.  I’ve probably already lost in life thanks to this career choice, but for some stupid reason I keep marching on in hopes of an eventual Pyrrhic victory.  What am I even fighting for anymore? 

My war…. what is it good for?

Member$ only

I got that dreaded email today.  “Renew Your ALA Membership.”  This email signifies another 65 dollars out of my pocket for absolutely nothing.

I’m not hating on the ALA.  I’m sure a membership is a nice thing to have if you’re working in the field.  But for a severely underemployed person who doesn’t actually work in a library?  This is pretty useless.  The ALA joblist is visible to me with or without a membership, so there’s only one reason for me to have it:

I keep renewing my membership in hopes that it looks good on my resume.

When I was in library school I had a professor who said that if she had the power, she’d make it mandatory for us all to have ALA memberships simply because it helps our resumes.  But as you know if you’ve been following my blog since the beginning (and I understand that’s not all of you… or any of you… or anyone because there is no hypothetical “you” and I’m talking to myself >.>) I’ve given up hope that it’s possible for me to get a job in this field.  It’s over, throw in the towel, I am a failure.  Despite this, I am still sending out resumes because, crap, I didn’t waste all that time and money not to try.

This is my first time being asked to renew my ALA membership since officially giving up, and I’m not sure exactly what to do now.  Do I waste my money on something I know is futile, or do I keep paying because, if I’m going to keep sending these resumes out, I ought to put my all into it?

How exactly is it even improving my resume, given that I have done precisely dick with it in the 5 years I’ve had it?  Wouldn’t it be just as well to write “I’d purchase an ALA membership if you gave me a reason to have one”?  Of course I’m speaking practically, and practical is not always the same as realistic.  Of course that wouldn’t look good on a resume, but for all intents and purposes it would be the same thing except I wouldn’t be wasting money that I desperately need.

I will grant you that 65 dollars for a year isn’t a lot of money.  In return, I hope you will grant me that it is a lot of money when I’m already operating under a yearly net loss from bills alone (thank you, student loans for a career I now know I can never hope to have!).

Is $65 in my current predicament worth the ability to tell myself that I did all I could, or is it time to cut another loss in a loss-filled life?

Would I change my path if I could?

Sometimes I sit alone and wonder about what could have been, about what could have changed or been done differently.  I found myself where I am by following the path of least resistance.  I didn’t know what I wanted to do after high school, so I took some scholarship and loan money to go to college.  I didn’t have a post-college plan, but I didn’t know what else to do, so putting the decision off for four more years was easier.  I chose a pretty not-outstanding major as far as jobs go because I still didn’t know what I wanted to do by my sophomore year.  That’s why, instead of picking anything practical, I picked what was interesting.  Everyone said I’d find out what I wanted to do when I got to college.  They lied to me.

Then came time to graduate from college, and the only exit plan I had come up with was “steal crap on my way out.”  It turns out that dry erase markers couldn’t pay off my student loans, however, so it was back to the drawing board.  Still no idea what to do, I kept going on the path of least resistance.  Library school.  Sure, what the hell, why not?  It didn’t seem like a hard job, I liked reading and libraries, and I didn’t know what else to do.  If I didn’t have such a horrific, paranoid fear of bugs, I honestly would have just been homeless by choice.  That’s how much I had no idea what to do.  Instead I chose library school, again doing the easy thing.

What if I’d done something different?  I still wonder what my life would be like—if I’d actually have one—if only I ever really wanted to do anything in particular.  If, instead of throwing a dart when I had to make a decision, I had been really into the idea of being a plumber, or dentist, or ninja.  If at any point in my life I would have had some burning passion.  Instead, I identify very much with the protagonist from Office Space.  We were supposed to imagine what we’d do if we could do anything we wanted for the rest of our lives, and that was supposed to be our career choice.  The problem is, there’s just nothing we wanted to do all of our lives. 

Don’t get me wrong, I do want to be a librarian.  I’ve enjoyed the work so far.  There are some parts I want to leave behind, and some parts I need to leave behind, and hopefully one day I’ll get the kind of library job I want so I’ll be able to.  But I do want to be a librarian.

But what if there had been a real passion in my life?  What if I were one of those kids who wanted to be a veterinarian from the age of 5 and worked my whole life with that goal in mind?  What if I swam against the current that took me to library school and ended up anywhere else?

The only problem is, even now when I try to imagine it, I can’t think of what that other path could possibly be.  The truth is, I never did have an interest in being a plumber or an exotic dancer.  What good is it to ask myself what I would have done differently when I still can’t even imagine how?  Even now I don’t know what my other option could possibly have been.  If I could hit reset and live it over again, I can’t imagine what I’d do instead of this.  

I guess it doesn’t help to imagine anyway.  After all, I’m a librarian.  I’m a librarian, writing this future blog post at 9:20 PM on a Monday, October 29^th, wrapped in a blanket despite being a little too warm, while avoiding grading some essays.  Just like I was always going to be.  And then in a few weeks or maybe over a month, I’ll post this. Whenever I do it, it’ll be when it was always going to happen.  There were different outcomes possible, but none of them were ever going to happen.  It may not be true that anything is meant to be, but everything that happens will be the only way it was ever going to happen.

I’ll never know what my other options were, and I was always going to be a hopeless, failed librarian.

What would I say to hopeful librarians?

This question makes me imagine going into a fit of wheezing coughs as I limp toward the asker while shouting: “HOPE?  ADANDON ALL HOPE, YE WHO ENTER LIBRARY SCHOOL.”  But while imagining that in my head, here’s what I’d actually say:

Make sure this is what you want.  Make sure this is the greatest passion in your life, that you’d never want to do anything else for as long as you live.  If you think this “just seems like a nice job,” or “you’re not sure what else to do, but you like reading,” then I highly recommend that you fuck right off.  Treat this career like you’d treat the idea of being a rock star or an astronaut.  If it’s what you really want to do more than anything and you think you have the passion and drive, and you think you have what it takes to stand out, and you think that it’s something you absolutely have to try to do, then go ahead.  Try.  But don’t count on it being a sure thing.  Have a fallback plan.  Have two.  Try to make a go of it, but understand that the chances of success are pretty slim, and you can’t hang all of your hope on it.  And if you do succeed, it won’t be overnight.  You’ll be chipping away for years to gain any kind of ground.  Expect about 2 years in library school, and then 3-5 more years volunteering or working less than half-time before anything opens up for you.  Maybe more. 

Also, make sure you can go all out with it.  Don’t go for this career if you need to stay close to your family.  You have to be willing to go anywhere and take any kind of job.  Again, this needs to be your passion to the point where you’ll do anything it takes to get there.  If you aren’t passionate enough to relocate outside of a 3-hour radius, then you aren’t passionate enough to be employable in this field.

“That sounds rather pessimistic, it can’t be that bad,” you imagine. “I mean, just because you suck, that doesn’t mean that becoming a librarian is that fucking difficult.”  If you think I’m exaggerating, read this:

http://www.forbes.com/pictures/efkk45ifij/no-1-worst-masters-degree-for-jobs-library-and-information-science/

Yes, the MLIS is the worst Master’s degree for jobs.  Somehow—and I really don’t understand how this is possible since libraries are still things—but somehow, you would be more employable with a Master’s in French Literature.  Or History.  Or Art History.  Even fucking Communications. 

Yeah, it’s not just me.  This profession is the barren hellscape I described it as, and it will suck for anyone coming in recently.  The bottom line is, if you want to be a librarian, you’d better want to be a librarian.  You’d better want it so much that you’re willing to take a big risk for it, and you’re willing to make big sacrifices to make it.  If you just want to be a librarian because you “love to read,” then run.  Run now.  The field doesn’t need you.

What is wrong with me?

I was rejected from another job.  I’ll give you time to fish your monocle out of your drink before I continue. 

  

When you’re rejected from a job you’re lucky if you hear back from them.  These people not only informed me, but they did so by email, which allowed me to have a conversation with them.  This is that conversation:

OK, thank you for the reply.

May I ask you a question?  I've been trying to find full-time work in this field for 4 years now, and in all that time I've only had one* interview at a place where I didn't know someone who knew someone who worked there and was pushing heavily for me.  So I guess my question is, is there something in my resume or cover letter that made you say "Oh my God, no"?

The reply:

There are no problems with your support documents.  The applicant pools are so big now that others are just more qualified.  We do a high matrix that judges each applicant against each required qualification and preferred qualifications.  Each requirement has a weight assigned to it.  Each applicant is rated between 1 – 5.  When all are complete the system sorts them by high scoring applicants.  No one is saying you are not qualified; it is just that others were more highly qualified.  Do not give up.  Keep applying for any position you are interested in; let the department disqualify you; do not disqualify yourself. 

I hope this answers your questions.

Again, thank you for your interest in [REDACTED].

It was quite nice to get a reply. I guess the main reason I’m posting this is because it eliminates one of my main concerns: that there’s something on my resume or my cover letter templates that turns employers off like a fat, balding man in his 30s who has cartoon bedsheets and is exclusively into Asian women. As it turns out, no. The problem is simply that 3 years of experience just isn’t enough experience anymore. Not when the field is in such a dire condition. There is no job I can apply to that won’t have at least 100 other applicants, and some of those applicants will be people who have been in the field full-time for 5, 10, 15 years or more. The bottom line is, there is no room for me in this field, period. Not because of some typo on my resume I can fix, but because it’s full up and they do not need me, and they never will.



*This actually occurred before the WY interview/train wreck posted prior. I decided I'd better post this writing before it gets even more outdated. If it ever will.

Mistaken identity

Yeahhhh, that interview did not go well.  Not even at all.

I fumbled, probably sounded very nervous.  The interview was blocked for an hour, and the email said it would be about 45 minutes.  It went 30.

But that's not really how I knew it went wrong.  No, that moment came when they asked about my online teaching experience because that was what caught their eye on my cover letter.

ummmmmmmmmmm.....

I don't have experience teaching online.  And I sure as hell didn't lie and say I did on my cover letter.  The only reason I can think of for her getting that impression is because I do have experience creating online web tutorials.  But teaching online?  nope, never.

So the entire reason I got an interview at all is because someone misread my cover letter.

The moment I said that I didn't have experience teaching online, I could almost hear the entire search committee audibly deflate.  I imagined them shooting each other looks, perhaps covering the receiver and mouthing: "oh s**t."  The entire tone of the interview went south immediately.  It was admirable of them not to hang up on me right then and there.

I was going to say after the interview, no matter how it went, how encouraging it was that someone at least showed interest in me.  That it was evidence that things weren't completely hopeless, that my credentials and experience are good enough for potential employment after all.

But nope, it turns out that the interest in me wasn't based on anything real.  It was just a mistake, that's all.

So, that explains how I got an interview for a job that I didn't seem like a good candidate for.  It's just too bad that I couldn't get something out of this experience, namely, like I said, the hope that comes with having a place show interest in me.  I just found out the cute girl was only flirting with me because she was drunk, and when the beer goggles came off and she saw the real me, she muttered something about quitting drinking and making amends with her father.  Then she ran for the toilet and I never saw her again.

I have the employability only a mother could love.

Trial by telephone

Well, this is news I never thought I'd have to share on this blog.  Not sure if it's good news or not.

I'll open by stating that I was asked to interview.  You may have noticed in my last post that I only had 2 interviews in my field in 4 years, only one of which was for a full time job.  Now I have another.  This brings my average up to one full-time job interview every two years.

That's the good news.  Yes, one interview every two years is good news compared to what I've been through.

The bad news is that it's not a job I'm sure I want.

This is going to be a telephone interview, and the job would be in Wyoming.  Obviously I'm not going to be more specific.  I am going to be interviewed over telephone for this position.  I'm not sure at this point if it's a preliminary round and they're planning to ask the finalists to interview in person, or if this is going to be it for everyone.

As I stated before, I'm applying to every job I can.  I can't afford to be picky about location.  And boy oh boy, have I not been picky.  Every once in a while when I'm applying for a job, I am gripped by a feeling of dread.  I suddenly realize, "But I don't want to move there," or even worse, "I'm not sure if I'd really be right for that job."  

Maybe the former concern shouldn't worry me too much.  Do I want to live in Georgia, or Idaho, or Alaska?  No, not really.  But then again, I don't know what's there.  Maybe what I'm looking for is in one of those places.  I won't really know until I get there.  Maybe once I get there I'll find everything I ever.  (I didn't forget a word in that sentence, I'm just making a fairly obscure reference by omitting the last word).  Maybe. But just thinking about those places, they're sure as Hell not where I'd want to be if I could write my own ticket.

Then comes the concern about not being good enough.  I shouldn't let it get to me.  The history of my life has been a history of thinking I can't do something, and then doing it, and doing well at it.  And the job requirements are always worded to be much more dense and intimidating than the job really is.  At the job I currently have I found out about it from someone I knew, but I never saw the actual job description.  When they were hiring more people later I saw what the job description looked like and thought, "There's no way I could ever do that job."  But not only could I do it, but I was already doing it and doing well.  I'm pretty sure that job descriptions are written to intimidate you.

So maybe those doubts and fears shouldn't grip me, but sometimes I'll have both of them at once.

Do I want to leave everything I've ever known and move to Wyoming?  And for that job??  If I could be choosy I wouldn't touch that job.  Not even at all.  The trouble with Wyoming.... apart from the fact that it's Wyoming..... is that it's not a reasonable driving distance, even for a weekend visit, to anyone I know.  This isn't the kind of opportunity I'd choose to pursue if I could be even a little picky.

And that right there is the problem.  I've been forced into such desperation that I'm not only being forced to consider inconvenient options, but options that may very well be terrible for me.  That's life as an MLIS holder.  I sure hope no one going for an MLIS is holding out any kind of hope that they'll be able to stay with their family or even stay in their home state, or even close enough for occasional visits.  If you're going for an MLIS, I hope very much that you love the profession so much and are so dedicated to it that you're willing to accept terrible options just to work in a library.  This is NOT a career where you get to write your own ticket, you have to take what you can get.  Even something terrible.  Or, in Wyoming.

So I will be doing this interview soon.  I'm telling myself that even if I'm offered the job I can always say no.  But at the risk of harping on it too much: two full-time interviews in 4 years.  Could I really say no?  I have to admit that a not insignificant portion of me hopes to be turned down just so I don't have to make that choice.  And while I'm being honest about that, I'll also admit that I've held that same hope for probably more than half of the jobs I've applied for.  The hope that I'd be turned down, because no matter what I said above about why I shouldn't worry, the fact is that terror still grips me.  I apply because I have to, but it is very rare for me to apply for a job thinking "yes, this is exactly the job I want."  I don't have the luxury of applying only to those jobs.  Most of the time a part of me is thinking "well, it's not like I'll get it anyway...."

I am afraid.

The near miss.

With four years of unsuccessful job searching, there must have been some near misses.  Well, the closest I’ve come is the job you already know I have—I was actually hired for a job that makes use of my degree.  The only problem is that it can barely be called a “job” since I believe real jobs pay with money rather than “all the dry erase markers you can steal.”  I’m not even earning half-time pay (despite the fact that, realistically, I’m probably working at least half-time, if not more) or any benefits.  In other words, I still have definitely not found the job I need. 

Other than that, there was one time where I had an interview.  An interview for a real, full time, benefits-included job.  Strangely enough, this was within the first couple of months of getting my MLIS and applying.  I must have actually thought that trend of being invited to interviews would continue, but how hilariously mistaken I was.  In any event, I obviously didn’t get it.  They ended up wanting someone with more experience, and given that the only experience I had at the time was fieldwork, that was fair enough.    And that was it.  In the four years I’ve been applying for library jobs, I’ve only had two interviews.  Two interviews in four years.  If you thought I was overreacting by accepting myself as a failure, please try to imagine a world in which you get invited to an interview two times in four years while applying to any job you can, and tell me how much you’d believe there’s a silver lining if only you “hang in there.”  Bonus points if you imagine those 2 interviews were in the first year, and you have now gone 3 straight without a single employer even willing to talk to you.

At the time I looked at my rejection as positive.  I’m sure I would have enjoyed working there, but I took it as a life experience.  And the employer was quite supportive.  Since it was my first interview, I emailed him later asking if he had any advice or pointers for me, and he was happy to oblige.  Too happy, really.  We ended up talking on the phone after that for what seemed like ages, and he occasionally sent me emails for job opportunities he saw.  That’s the great thing about this profession—we’re helpers.  We fell out of touch after I got my current job and he no longer was worried about me, and at that point I wasn’t worried anymore either.  I had just taken my first step into the profession and would undoubtedly be taking more before too long.  I was where I should be at the time.

That was early September of 2009.  As I write this it is 2:49 in the morning at the end of September, 2012.  By the time I post this it will be quite a bit later (I wrote many of my posts out before I began this blog, wanted to make sure I had enough to write about.  I’m planning to post one per week, so this should show up at the beginning of October).  The job I took to pay the bills while waiting for the full time job to come along has been my only other interview and only job I managed to land.  The full time job never came.  Nor two part time jobs.  Nor did I ever get another interview again, not a single one in 3 years and counting.

Here I am.

So what do I do?

This may not be the most interesting post, but I feel I have to get it out of the way.  As I lay my life before you, it will be relevant to know where I'm currently working.  I did mention already, after all, that I have 3 years of experience in my field.  You may already be wondering where I was able to find it.

I teach semester-long courses on information literacy at a career college (I also taught technology literacy, before they did away with the course).  “Teaching at a college?,” asks my reader (I know better than to pluralize that) with genuine surprise.  “Why that sounds rather sexy, what are you so bitter about?” 

Oh, well I’m sorry to have come off as bitter.  I was aiming for honest, it just happens that honesty always sounds like bitterness.  If it doesn’t, you’re not being fully honest.  These writings come from a place of sincerity, I assure you. 

But in answer to your question, the problem is that I’m an adjunct, and the job is less than part time.  How many classes I teach, and consequently, how much I get paid, depends on the semester.  At best, I’m less than half-time.  At worst, I’m breaking even after paying for student loans, gas, and car insurance.  And I mean dead even, give or take, with nothing left over. 

The job itself isn’t bad.  It has ups and downs.  I enjoy the people I work with, and I more often than not enjoy the students.  But it can be more work than the pay is worth, and I’m definitely far from having a life of my own.  Ultimately it's not where I want to be.  I want something with better and more structured hours.  Working nights makes me depressed, and not having structured hours (i.e., grading and prep time done at home) means I'll take 8 hours to do something that should take 2 because of ADD.  I want a job that I go to in the morning, get my work done at work, then come home and am off the clock.  But listen to me being picky.  Obviously I'll take whatever I can get at this point, and that's why I have what I have.  It's all I can get.

As far as experience goes, I'm not sure how far this job really takes me.  It is 3 years, but not 3 years full-time.  And the experience I get from it is specifically in instruction, I don't actually work in the library itself.  While this may be better than "fresh out of library school with only fieldwork under my belt" (especially since I do someday hope to have a job with an instruction component) I'm not sure if I'm really doing my resume that big of a favor.  I'm starting to think I may be better off to stop sinking my time into this job and find something I can get more money for, even if the "more money" job is something like a Wal-Mart greeter that will net me no career experience.  So far I've prioritized experience over money, but is this experience actually worth anything anymore?  Especially now that I'm facing the fact that it may be best to stop hoping to get a job in my field anymore, I just don't know.