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.

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.

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.

Maybe may be my least favorite word.

I've mentioned before that I was starting to get interviews after the five year mark of looking for a library position (although incidentally, that "two and counting" for 2014 can be called now-- that's staying at 2).  At that point the upside was that at least I'm getting interviews now and then.  Just a couple a year, but it gives me a better fighting chance than zero, right?

That was the upside.  Now, however, I'm looking at it as possibly being another negative, most likely due to the pessimism I can't help but feel.  Here's what I'm thinking now:

Before I was failing without even getting the chance.  Now I'm being given a chance, and still failing.

You ask someone out on a date who says no, and it doesn't hurt your ego a whole lot, hopefully.  Worst case scenario they didn't like your appearance, but that's a subjective thing so you can shrug it off.  You know you're gorgeous.  When you send out a resume, same deal.  They judged you at a glance, and who knows what random, snap decision they had to make to narrow down the candidates.  You know you would have been perfectly competent to do that job.

But when you get a yes to that date, go out, have some long, deep conversations and you think things went well, and then you never hear from the person again, and this keeps happening over and over, well then you can't help but wonder what's wrong with you.  This time the person gave you a chance, sat down with you with an open mind, listened to what you had to say... and did not like it one bit.  Not a snap judgment made at a glance, but a sound judgment made after peering into your depths and recoiling in horror.  Same now with these interviews: they met me, shook my hand, asked me things about myself, and decided then that I should be rejected.

Where this metaphor breaks down is that when it comes to dating, sometimes being pretty is enough to hold someone's interest (and how lucky for me, since that's really all I've got).  But when it comes to those interviews, sadly, being pretty will not be enough to win them over.  I'll admit it has occurred to me that the fact that I'm eye candy could be good marketing for their library, but I'm obviously not stupid enough to claim that in an interview >.>

This is going off the rails a bit, circling back to my point now.  Before it was easier to shrug it off and think: "they're not rejecting me, they're rejecting a very small snapshot of me that they gather from my resume and cover letter.  Now, though, some of them are spending hours-- hours!-- with me in person, listening to what I have to say, and saying: "nahhhhhhhhhhhhhh."  Now I can really, truly feel like it's "me" they're rejecting.  Is that really a step up?

Obviously I'm still getting the interview experience, and I'm still getting a chance rather than none.  But that only makes me feel better if I believe it's really going to help me get the job someday.  If I don't get the job-- and it is entirely possible that I won't-- all I'll have gotten from this is more personal rejection and the opportunity to look back at the end of my life and think "if only I'd checked my hair after taking off my sunglasses in the car, maybe...," or "if only I'd elaborated on this one point, maybe...," or "if only the three hour drive hadn't drained me so much more than I thought it was going to, maybe..."

Will my interview opportunities lead to something good?  Maybe.  But then again, maybe not.

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.

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.

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.

Not dead, just buried

I feel I owe an update to the dozens of spambots and the zero real, actual people who read this blog.

There has been news.  Kind of a lot of news, actually.  The problem is, I've been busy.  And when I'm not busy, my depression demands that I do nothing but sit here in my sweatpants playing Skyrim for 12 hours straight.

But enough about my crippling mental disorders, here's the news.  In the past 2 months I have had two interviews for full time jobs.  To put that in context, the last full time job I was interviewed for (not counting This catastrophe, which I don't and neither should you) was about 4.5 years ago.  So I went from nothing year after year after year, to two interviews for full time positions in two months.

I got my MLIS in 2008.  It is now 2013.  That's 5 years and change.  That was how long it took for me to turn a corner where my experience is now enough to get me looked at.  As you may recall, my experience all this time has been adjunct info lit instruction, so maybe it's not as bad if you're the lucky kind of son or daughter of a bitch who can somehow land a part time job that's actually in a library.  I don't know how such a thing as possible, but eh, people get lucky.  Maybe you did fieldwork where there just happened to be an opening.  Good for you.  You son or daughter of a bitch.  Anyway, if you're one of those people then I guess you probably didn't have as long of a wait.  If you're like me and your only job has been teaching info lit as an adjunct (I know I'm not the only one!), the the magic number you're looking for is 5.  Five years and just maybe your resume will start getting looked at (albeit, only for jobs with a heavy instruction component).

And if you didn't hit the jackpot and stumble ass-first into a part time position right out of library school, AND if you didn't make the connections to get a teaching gig at the very least (in which case you must think me the son or daughter of a bitch), then haha, wow, I have no idea what it's going to be for you.

I may be jumping the gun, though.  I'm aware that two interviews doesn't prove a pattern.  It could very well be that getting two interviews was luck, and the fact they were 2 months from each other is coincidence, and now I'll be back to another 5 year dry spell.  Could be, but honestly I don't think so.  It's kind of hard to admit, but I actually have a good feeling about this.

I got rejected from that first job, by the way.  The other one... well, we'll wait and see.

Wash it down the drain

As I think of how unprepared I feel to do most of the jobs I find on the job hunt, and how scary everything seems, and how hard and how much work, I often think I’m trying and failing to do something I have no business doing.  I know that my life has been a never ending cycle of me thinking I don’t have the competence to do something, and then doing it well.  And I know I earned my degree, and I did well in my fieldwork, and I’m doing at least well enough not to get fired with my current position, but none of that makes me feel prepared or capable of doing 99% of the library jobs I see.

As I sat (alone.  In the dark.  If you must know) tonight, dwelling on that very issue, I couldn’t help thinking about how I’ve set myself up for failure by trying to do something I’m just not good enough to do, and then I thought: “All because it was so fucking important for people to think I’m smart.”

I mentioned before why I chose to be a librarian, and all of that was true, but it’s also true that my motivation for a lot of things in life stems from wanting to show that I’m smart (and in my previous explanation, that was indeed my reason for getting into reading before I found that book that really made me into reading).

I know “Librarian” doesn’t say “genius” the way a medical degree or something would, but I’m not smart enough for a medical degree.  But I am (or thought I would be) smart enough to be a librarian.  And hey, librarians are considered smart.

The only problem is, now that I’m trying to get that job I really don’t think I’m smart enough at all.  I mean, I’m smart at a few things.  Reading, of course.  Logic, of the “if X, then Y” variety.  And I was a good student because of that, being able to see patterns easily.  I still remember one example.  Elementary school, some guest speaker was talking to us all, grades 1-6.  I was probably somewhere in grades 1-3, can’t say where for sure.  He had a long rectangular box with doors on both sides, and he put a ball in one side and asked where it was.  Someone pointed to the side he put the ball in.  He tilted the box so the ball rolled to the other side, then opened the door the kid pointed at to reveal it wasn’t there, and asked again where the ball was.  Another kid points to the side the ball rolled to, and he tilted the box the other way… etc.  This went on for several rounds, and I was /dying/ for him to call on me.  I couldn’t believe that no one else had figured it out.  Simple, point to where the ball isn’t and he’ll tilt it and that’s where the ball will be.  Simple pattern recognition, right?  He was calling on all the older kids, and none of them got it.  I’m sure I was one of the few who did.  He even made a comment at some point, along the lines of “you’d think they’d figure it out by now” before giving up completely.

And in the post I linked to above, you see that my kindergarten teacher didn't think it was even possible for someone to read fluently at the age of 5 until I was her student.

So where does all this insecurity come from?  This driving need for people to see me as intelligent?  Easy.  I had another trait as a small child: I liked making people laugh.  So I tried to do that at every chance I got, getting myself a bit of a "class clown" reputation.  I didn't know it at first, but apparently the stereotype is that class clowns are dumb.  That's just the stereotype: the kid seeks attention because he's not good at anything else.  I eventually realized that the other students weren't aware of the smarts I had, they were only aware of the clown persona, and applied all the usual stereotypes to it.  Everyone was treating me like an idiot, and it was the worst feeling in the world.  I never got over that.  to this day nothing gets under my skin quite like someone insulting my intelligence.

Therefore, it was important to me all my life that people see me as smart.  Therefore, reading and higher education.  Therefore, librarian.  When I dig further back into my past than the post linked above, I see it was my insecurity that took me here and drove me right off the cliff of failure.

The thing is, even though I was actually a pretty sharp little kid, none of that potential I had amounted to anything.  I think I was an exceptional child who, through sheer lack of motivation, became an average adult.

I spoke before about a song lyric that applies to my life, or more specifically, the part of my life I describe in this blog.  There’s another song lyric, much less optimistic, that also applies.  From a song called Farewell Mona Lisa:

“Don’t you ever try to be more than you were destined for, or anything worth fighting for.”

That one hits me every time.  I feel like that’s exactly what I did.  I bit off more than I could chew, tried to become something more than I was worth.  And now this is my life: struggling and fighting to do something that I don’t honestly believe I can do, and the thought of doing it scares me senseless.  Fail or succeed, I feel like neither option can end well for me.

All those employers I’ve sent resumes to have been right not to put their trust in me.

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.”

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.

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?