A few weeks ago a friend (let’s call her Carla) and I were discussing our bosses and the undying love (not) that each of us has for our jobs. I told Carla how I had no intention or desire to work in state government, yet here I am.  I went on to tell her how state government sucks and I hate every minute of it.

Later in the conversation, Carla asked me what exactly I’d like to do. So I told her about what I hope to accomplish one day with Cosmopolitan Urbanist, and I told her about my research in affordable housing, downtown redevelopment, and community development. I told her about the project that I’m working on with my gym. Not concretely saying what I want to do, just kind of listing the stuff that really interests me.

Then Carla told me about her ideal job. And I decided to steal it.

So in the Spirit of Carla’s career statement, here goes my own:

I want a job where I’m hired because I’m me. The organization(s) trusts in me enough to do my job, without interference, without daily reporting, without having to clock in or sit in a cube all day.  I want a wide variety of interesting, socially conscious, useful projects and the freedom to pick which ones I want. I want to work without always needing to work at “break neck” speed but always keeping my deadlines in sight. I want to work with a group of interesting, creative, and social individuals that like and respect me.  And I don’t want to wait until I’m 50 (or 30, for that matter) to get this job.

Thinking in “big picture” reminded me of what I used to tell people in graduate school when they’d ask me what I wanted to do after graduation:   I want to work for an organization that allows me to work on large social problems, helps me to grow professionally and personally, in an environment that’s friendly and inclusive, in a large metropolitan area.

People always looked at me strangely when I said that. I think they wanted me to say something simple like, I want to work in local government or non-profits, or consulting, or urban development. I learned early that my ideal work environment is way more important to me that the actual work that I’m assigned. More often than not, even digging ditches can be fun if you’re doing it with a great group of people.

Don’t get me wrong, I think I would hate flipping burgers even if my 6 favorite bloggers joined me every day [thought it would be fun for a while], but to me, a good work environment is just as important as doing important work. Having worked with great co-workers doing menial tasks and not-so-great co-workers doing relatively good work; I’d rather stuff envelopes and have someone fun to talk to any day of the week.

I’m hoping for the trifecta: a great team of co-workers, work that’s engaging- intellectually and socially, and mornings where I don’t wake up hating the fact that I have to work.

So, Universe, bring me my ideal job,  Mmmhkay?

Well. If you must know. I’ve spend the past couple of months writing fiction. I participated in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) in November.  The point of NaNoWriMo is to write a novel with a minimum of 50,000 words. I failed at getting to 50,000 words, at midnight on November 30 (the deadline), I had about 35,000 words.  In spite of this failure, I created a better writing habit, and have some great new tools to help me get my writing done.  And I have a great beginning to my novel.

December was Party (aka Networking) month.  I’m still looking for a better job, my super awesome life coach Jenny Ferry told me that the holidays are a great time to network.  I totally found that to be true, and at least a few times each week I was attending various lunches, receptions, and happy hours all devoted to networking, holiday cheer and getting me a job.  And when I wasn’t networking, I was likely writing or celebrating my birthday (aka MoniChrismas)

It’s 2010 now, and I’m back in the saddle. You can expect to see posts here (and here) at least once or twice a week.

I hope you had an amazing holiday season! And damn it, 2010 HAS to be better than 2009.

My friend, who overheard me, was aghast. How dare I say that!?!  She said I was being ungrateful. I met some really cool people, I learned  BART, I made some professional contacts that will be handy in the future. How could my time have been a waste, when I got to experience all that good stuff came out of it?

Well, I said. My trip out West was purposeful.  It was all about getting a job.  I went on 4 interviews with 3 organizations.  And I came home empty-handed.  So yeah, a waste.

But what about the experience, my friend implores. I got to do a lot of cool stuff! The travel, the time spent in a really cool city hanging out with the locals going to the really cool restaurants. I got to do something few other people get to do. My friend said I was looking at the experience too narrowly.

My friend was right.  I’ve (mostly) had a great time in San Francisco.

But I wasn’t wrong.  I went to California with a goal in mind; I expected FULLY to get a job out of the deal. But in this case, I came home without meeting my goal.  Were my expectations too high? Should I be satisfied having the experience? Or should I continue to focus on meeting my goal?

I’m not satisfied with JUST having the experience. Is Hillary satisfied that she had the experience of running for president? I think not. I’m sure it will help her in the long run, but RIGHT NOW I doubt that she’s jumping for joy.  What about all the American Idol hopefuls, or the Miss America runner-ups or the teams that didn’t win the Super Bowl. Do you believe them when they give their farewell speech and say that they are happy to have the experience? Yeah, I get that they are happy for the experience, but they came to win, right? And it sucks to get [thisclose] and then fail to meet your goal.

I came to win.  And while I enjoyed my time in San Francisco, I didn’t win. And when it comes to looking for a job, coming in second doesn’t get you paid.

I mean, I sweated a lot, but I didn’t die like I thought I would.

When I was in college I found a cheap gym that taught ju jit su and muy tai kickboxing. I’ve always been fascinated by martial arts, so I decided to give them a shot. It was love from the beginning.  At the beginning of each lesson, we ran through a series of drills to practice basic moves. Then we would move into learning something new. The majority of each lesson was spent “sparring”.  The whole class would pair up and go at it. (I’ve fought hundred pound ladies, three hundred pound men, and ultimate fighting contestants). I learned quickly that the longer I trained the better I’d be. I’m sure you are thinking, duh, of course training improves skills, but what I mean is, training and improving in martial arts skills has a lot to do with muscle memory.  If I thought about what move to do next, I often would find myself pinned.  But if I let my body take over and do what it remembered from the lessons, I was much more likely to win a match.

I trained in ju jit su and kickboxing for a year, then I moved away and I couldn’t find another cheap gym to train in. I looked into other gyms and even went to a couple of “free” classes. A year or two later, my body still remembered how to protect itself.

And I don’t even have to remind you of my swimming adventure! At first, I thought I would die every time I got into the water.  Over the course of just a few months, I learned to swim on my back and my stomach. Now, in Atlanta, with no money and no pool, I miss the water.  I can’t wait till I get settled in, join a Y and get back to swimming.

Oh, and by the way, when I set a goal for my body, I ALWAYS lose weight. But I don’t even care because when I get into an activity it quickly stops being about losing weight and starts being about having fun and learning a new talent.

This has been a tremendously stressful year with writing the capstone, graduating from school, and looking for my next step.  Every time I’ve gotten bogged down or discouraged about finishing my thesis or this stupid job search the GF sends me a text message reminding me that I ran a 5k (I was training when we met), that I learned to swim (swimming is a goal of her’s too)… and reminds me I should tap into that that same tenacity and control and endurance and persistence to overcome whatever other obstacles (not having a job or having an insane thesis committee or starting a business).

It’s hard, but I’m starting to get the picture. She’s right. If I can control my body enough to do the athletic stuff I’ve done with it, and have the persistence and endurance to keep training even when it hurts or is inconvenient and meet my physical goals (with sweat, no blood or tears) then I should at least display the same persistence and endurance, and most of all, patience when “running after” my professional and personal goals.

Outside the building, I looked up into the sky and the first thing I saw was shiny, golden dome of the Georgia State Capitol.  Immediately I was taken back.  I was probably in the third grade, and my class went on a field trip to another state capitol. It was beautiful. All I remember is that the seats and carpets were deep burgundy and sooooo soft. The dome (are domes required on capitol buildings?) was stately, but opulent, with different colored glass and gold filigree.  I remember our tour guide telling us that the building was newly renovated. I was starstruck. I remember thinking—I wanna work in a place that’s this cool when I grow up.

Then I was taken to another time. I was 22 and driving to DC.  It wasn’t my first trip to DC, but this trip was special. I was in town for an interview, it was the middle of the worst year of my life, and it was my first trip to DC by myself as an adult.  I was on the interstate, and I remember looking over the city. It was so pretty and glittery and POWERFUL!! I fell in love with DC immediately, and I fall more in love every time I’m there.

I was so excited and I couldn’t hold it in. I just hooped and hollered and did a jig in the car. It was so exciting. I had to call my friends and scream “I’M IN DC!!!!!” And because my friends are awesome, they yelled along with me.

All of a sudden, I’m snapped back to all the times over the past two years in MPA school where I’ve emphatically declared that under no circumstances would I consider a job in state government. ‘It’s a bureaucracy!’, I’d say. ‘Nothing ever gets done there!’, I’d say. ‘It’s too big!”, I’d say.

But there I was, about to walk into that big domed building. I just shook my head. I whispered under my breath, “Never say never.”

A few weeks ago, I received an offer for an interview in Hayward, California for a Deputy City Clerk position. In a good economy, I wouldn’t have even considered the position. (I’ve worked in a City Clerk’s office before, and I know that being a Clerk is not what I want to be when I grow up).  However, this is not a good economy, and times are hard, and I was just excited to get an interview.  During the same timeframe, I applied for a couple of other jobs that I was REALLY excited about (San Jose Downtown Association and the Silicon Valley Leadership Alliance). Since I had to spend almost $400 dollars on a plane ticket (regardless of whether I spent 2 days or 10 days), I decided that I should maximize my time and request interviews with the other organizations, and meet as many people as possible.

The City of Hayward uses a two interview process.  I had an initial panel interview with Clerks from other Bay Area jurisdictions.  The purpose of the interview was to see if I had the basic skills and temperament to be a Deputy Clerk, i.e. they ranked applicants in terms of general “clerk” ability.  I came in third, which granted me a second interview. The second interview was with the City Clerk and the City Attorney.  It was….meh. They didn’t ask me anything I wasn’t expecting, and I answered their questions quickly and thoroughly. The City Clerk was young, and it was great to see someone her age (early 30’s) at the top of her field.

The interesting thing about the Hayward interviews?  The questions were so generic. The panel interview was harder because a) there were three people to make eye contact with and b) their questions were harder and more scenarios based. The second interview felt like a recap of the first interview, and some of the questions were legal questions. (Hello! I decided NOT to go to law school remember) And the City Attorney asked me what I hoped to do with a Philosophy degree. I had to keep my composure, and say very sweetly,

I can do anything I want to with a Philosophy Degree. Studying Philosophy teaches one to think logically and solve problems.

To which he grunted.

In short, I’m not crazy about the position, but it would be a promotion from my last job before graduate school and it would get me to the West Coast (which is the goal). *shrugging*

I am way more excited about the other two jobs that I interviewed for.  The Silicon Valley Leadership Alliance is an amazing organization, and I was very excited that they were willing to interview me on short notice.  In the advertised position, I would be analyzing policy and managing the Directors of Environmental Policy and Energy Policy.  The Directors (who interviewed me) were so awesome. I had a great chemistry with them; the interview was very easy and relaxed. They didn’t ask the generic questions [they had great questions]. We had things in common, I loved them.  The job was SO ME.

Two problems: They told me,

While we think you’re great and capable and intelligent, and would be great in this job, there are 15 other people in the stack that are just like you.

Ouch. And they have a 3 part interview process, which means I would need to fly out to California twice more. Their timeframe for hiring someone is August, so I send them nice emails every once in a while so they don’t forget me….[If you are reading, guys, please hire me]

Interview Three was with the San Jose Downtown Partnership. It wasn’t a “real” interview; we met at the local Starbucks. I asked that hiring manager to meet with me while I was in town.  We agreed that a real interview could happen later on the phone. I just wanted her to have my face (and my body language) to go with my resume.   While I know that I am capable of being a great Event Coordinator (the position that I’m interviewing for), this is a case of right organization, wrong position. Working for a Downtown Development Agency is one of my dream jobs, but I always saw myself in a policy, analytical, or government or client relations role. I think the Event Coordinator gig would be a lot of fun and I think I would learn a lot.  But the hiring manager thinks I’m over qualified and won’t last long.  I tried to reassure her, but I don’t know if I convinced her.

If I had to rank these jobs in order of my preference, I’d choose 1) Silicon Valley Leadership Alliance, 2) San Jose Downtown Association 3) City of Hayward.

I believe that the best way to get a job is to be you in an interview. If interviewers don’t like the me that they see in the interview, then they aren’t going to like me in the position.  Even when I’m not offered the position, often interviewers still tell me that they get “good feelings” about me or that I have a good aura or that I’m likeable)   I feel as confident as I can about these interviews, knowing that I showed them my best self.

I’m bored because I’m tired of living my life the way I’m currently living it.  Apply for Job. Wait for a response. Check my twitter and Google Reader. Repeat.

By the way, this is the last whiny post about how tired I am of being jobless and poor.  I’ll probably still write about the job search, but I promise not be so f-ing whiny. I’M tired of listening to me whine. I’ve got to gain perspective in my life. I need to redefine my goals. I need to seriously think about my life’s direction. I have to get myself together.

I always get excited when I stumble upon a really great person who seems to have taken live by the balls and SQUEEZED. I want to squeeze life by the balls.  I want to use my superpower, dammit.

I wanna DO something.

And then I think about all the things I could and, dammit, SHOULD be doing to fully start working for myself and then I come up with 5 billion reasons why I can’t do all the things I should be doing. And it’s stupid because I’ve done stuff that is way harder…. WTF is my problem?

Hence the “getting myself together” that I spoke of a few sentences ago.

Question 1. Why is it is so hard to move from “starting” to “doing”?

Maybe it’s time for an online to-do list, with you guys (yes, that means you) to keep me accountable, huh?

***

Everyone morning I look at my very beautiful Vision Board and I sigh. It makes me sad to even look at it.

Why? Because I remember the idealistic Monica that carefully and lovingly put the Vision Board together this Spring. (it’s so gosh darn PRETTY!!) And I remember the hot and sweaty Monica, who, this summer, after packing her car to move to Atlanta, scrambled to find a place for said vision board. (I didn’t want to wrinkle or, God forbid, tear any of it)

Now the vision board, my clothes, computer, and 20 books that I couldn’t live without are setting in Atlanta.  I’ve found a prominent place to display it where I can see it often through the day. But all I feel when I look at it is sadness. Not happiness, not joy, not hope, not even pride that I put together something so lovely. I feel sad. And Duped.

I was in a very hopeful state of mind when I put together my vision board. I thought about everything I wanted. (Yes, the words FABULOUS and FAMOUS can be found on my board.  Along with HEALTHY and SAFE and SUCCESSFUL, and my core values) I imagined my dream life ( not so farfetched that it’s unattainable) and I tacked it on my board. I put everything on it. The cities I want to live (no, Atlanta is not on it), the jobs I’ve really want it (and subsequently been rejected for), my business (that I’ve procrastinated starting) and my desire to rule to free world (what? I’ve been planning that one for YEARS)

Every day I look at my vision board with a heavy heart and I want to kick it and hit it and break it into a million little corkboard pieces. The GF says that I should calm down. I’ve only been here for a week, she says. It’s not my fault that all the jobs I’ve interviewed for don’t want to hire anyone until August, she says. Something good will happen, she says. Have a drink, she says.

We disagree on the point of the vison board. She says that the purpose of the vision board is to keep me focused on my goals.  I thought the vision board was to help me manifest my future. Which it ain’t doing.

Question 2. Who is right? Me or the GF?

Question 3. Why is it that everyone else can be optimistic about my future except me?

I had a conversation with my mother today.  She asked me how I was doing.  My new stock answer: Still poor and jobless.

I swear if she’d been in the room with me, she would have smacked me in the head and told me to snap out of it.

Instead, in her best “everything will be ok” voice, she proceeds to tell me that everything will work out. She reiterated the GF, that I’ve only been here for a week, that I’m smart and capable, that God wouldn’t put anything on me that I couldn’t handle.

Then she goes into her “you listen here, missy” voice and tells me that I am not to start doubting, I have to believe in myself. I can’t even use adverbs: maybe, probably, and hopefully can no longer be a part of my vocabulary. Over and over, using different words, she says

Something good is going to happen. I just know it.

I’m trying to believe mama, I’m trying.

During the hours when I am, what passes for awake, I trudge from restaurant to restaurant from temp agency to temp agency putting on my happy face, and telling them all why I would be just AWESOME as a hostess, bartender, server, administrative assistant, call center rep……and all I REALLY want to do is cry.

This is not my life.  At least, this is not the life I wanted/dreamed of/expected.  I mean, when I finish writing this post, I’m going down to the local CVS to apply for a job as a cashier.

And to think. I actually WENT to college. TWICE.

At night when I’m waiting (usually in vain) for my eyes to close and sleep to overtake me, I run through my mind all the people I need to email, all the staffing companies I still need to get to, all the cute little restaurants that I should drop by, and ask the Universe, God, whatever you want to call the higher being that keeps the world turning…… When will it end? When will I hit rock bottom?

I am beginning to believe that it is only when I am on the brink of a nervous breakdown, all my optimism is gone, and I have no other options that whatever breakthrough I’m supposed to have will happen.  I’ll have a moment of clarity, and the path I’m supposed to take will be clear, and I’l stop feeling like a fish out of water.

And I think it’s close.

I was recently in the presence of someone who treated me very badly and falls, in my opinion, in the later catergory. In other words, she’s absolutely crazy.

A couple of weeks ago I traveled out to the Bay Area. Since I’m jobless and my bank account is limited, I arranged to spend the week with a friend of a friend.  I was excited that I wouldn’t have to worry about hotel expenses during the seven day trip.  My time with, let’s call her Gabbie, started out awesomely.  Gabbie welcomed me into her home, she allowed me to stay in her bedroom, and she even cleared a space for me on the vanity in the bathroom.   Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday passed without a hitch.  Gabbie took it upon herself to show me around; she introduced me to a great bar and a great restaurant.  She went beyond normal politeness. I thought we were on the way to being friends.

Weekends in a new city are hard, and it was on Sunday that Gabbie’s cracks began to surface.  She asked me to leave the apartment for a while because she was expecting her girlfriend to visit; I was attending an event in San Francisco so I wasn’t concerned.  However, a snag in my plans made me text Gabbie to see if I could come back earlier than we arranged.  Her textual response? Maybe I should look for different arrangements because I was making her feel rushed.  I thought she was completely overreacting and  I was confused and concerned.   I didn’t have anywhere else to go, and I didn’t have the money for a hotel stay for the remainder of my trip. Luckily, I was able to talk to Gabbie and convince her to continue to let me stay.

After that episode I was worried that she would snap. I tried to be quiet and stay out of her way, I knew I only have three days left, I thought I would make it.  I thought I was doing a good job, until Tuesday morning when I awoke to find a note on thebathroom door telling me to get out of the apartment.  The note included a series of threats and false accusations. Gabbie accused me of scamming my way into her house, staying too long, and keeping her away from her “responsibilities”. Really, Gabbie?  There was no promise of reward or compensation in exchange for my lodging. I told her verbally and in writing how long I planned to stay (and she agreed verbally and in writing) and I even shared my flight itinerary.  I also left the apartment every morning and I only returned in the afternoon when Gabbie called me to tell me she was home. (Bad Monica, you scammer, you!)

I was so embarrassed and hurt by the note. And really confused because she rambled on for a while spewing hatred and negativity. I don’t know what I did to cause her to say such hateful and unnecessary things to me.  It would have been enough to just tell me to get out. Or to communicate with me about what her problem really was.

I didn’t have time to panic or cry or feel sorry for myself.  I had to pack all my stuff, find the cheapest hotel possible, and decide the day’s logistics because I had a lunch informational interview planned for later that day AND I had a series of interviews planned for the following day.  It was incredibly weird to have lunch with someone while carrying ALL my worldly possessions with me? And I knew I had to quickly get myself together if I was to be successful in my Wednesday interviews.

I didn’t have time to evaluate or express my feelings at the time.  I’ve spend the past few day s thinking, Why would she treat me like that? I am still so hurt and confused and PISSED OFF by Gabbie’s behavior.

Which brings me back to the beginning.  How Gabbie treated me was completely outside of cultural and societal norms. It was horrible. And she knew it was a horrible thing to do because she didn’t have the guts to face me like a woman.  She left me a note on the bathroom door, and told me specifically not to contact her anymore.  Sounds like a guilty conscience to me…. (or a person with a split personality)  Was allowing me in her house in the first place where Gabbie went wrong or was it when she kicked me out?  Did she invite me to stay with her out of politeness?   And kick me out because it was no longer in her best interest to adhere to the cultural norm? Did her girlfriend tell her to kick me out?

Whenever I try to figure out why people act the way they do, especially in these situations, I ask myself, Is it a matter of personal weakness, desperation or craziness?  In the case of Gabbie, you be the judge.  But I don’t think that it was a coincidence that one of the last things my sister says to me before I got on the plane was:  I hope she’s not a psycho.

This week I’m in the Bay Area for an interview. (YAY!)  But in spite of my super excitement about the opportunity and my confidence that I’ll get the job, I’m so sad out here. This is my second trip to the Bay.  On my first trip, I had so much fun.  It was equal parts networking extravaganza and vacation. This trip (because I’m newly poor and jobless) I can’t even afford a hotel or a rental car.  I’m staying with a friend of a friend who happens to live near a BART station (thank GOD).  I’m just starting to be comfortable traveling on the trains. However, I still haven’t ventured on the buses. I constantly worry that I’m overstaying my welcome and will come back to find my suitcase on the sidewalk.

Being out here, I spend a lot of time alone. Sometimes alone is just alone, but sometimes, most times, alone is a very lonely place.  I just wanna go home, drink straight out of my own milk carton and watch my tv in my underwear. (Except, I gave up my apartment, and am now living with my mom–boo).

Being in a new city, alone, is tough. Having to be ON and networking and interviewing in a new city is one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.  Today I was on a train and it hit me. I don’t want to do this by myself and I don’t want to be here by myself anymore.  I’m tired and I’m done.  I cannot do another trip out here like this. If I don’t get a job out of this trip, I think I’ll officially be at rock bottom.

It’s not that I am losing faith. It’s not that I don’t believe in myself. I believe in hard work, I believe in perseverance, I believe in a little bit of luck .  So I’m going BALLS OUT for the next three days. As hard as I’ve been working, all the leads that I’ve followed, all the time and effort I put in, and as big a hit that my credit card has taken (!!!) if nothing happens this week, I need to rethink my strategy.

You know that old saying, “Know when to hold ‘em, know when to fold ‘em, know when to walk away….” I’m not walking away.  I’m going all in.

Wish me luck out here. It’s now or nothing.