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.

Further failure, part 2: the dark side.

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

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

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

But on the dark side....

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

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

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

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

Further failure, part one: The bright side

I did not get the job.  I still have one more day before I'm able to get really dark about this, so here's the bright side.

This was the closest I've ever gotten to landing a full time job in the library field.  My previous best effort was a job in Indiana, where I absolutely crushed the phone and the webcam/presentation interviews, then drove there from two states away, only for them to show zero interest in me from the time I set foot in there until they sent me packing half an hour later.  I was leading on the score cards for a few rounds, but in the final round I got knocked the fuck out and buried.

This time, I didn't get knocked out.  I did well.  I did really well.  They spent close to three hours with me, enjoyed my presentation, and let me know in some way at more than one point that I'd impressed them.  I went bell to bell and forced a difficult decision.  "Yo, Adrian!"

They still went with someone else in the end.  It sucks, and more on that later.  But the good news is, I wasn't a joke.  I just need to find the right jobs to apply for (not an easy task, but they come around now and then), get luck to go my way, and someday I could finally get that call.  I was close.  Maybe if my interview had been on a Tuesday after lunch instead of a Friday before lunch, or if I'd been elsewhere in the order, or if I'd worn a different color.  Who knows, maybe it was just a little thing like that that ended up tipping the decision.  It worked against me this time.  Next time, maybe it can work for me and finally, after all this time, I'll have a new city for my chalk outline to circle.

The point is, I'm marketable.  For the right kind of job, I can get far and get strong consideration.  Possibly enough to be the one.  I have enough experience, and now I have more confidence.  I've learned from past mistakes.  I've been able to adapt and force myself to become what I need to be (or, fake it for just long enough to get away with it).  I now know I have the skill-set and experience, and all it will take is finding that right interview where the coin flip goes my way.  This is no longer impossible.

Don't worry, the next post will be far less positive.

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.

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.