Take a look at this gem that landed in my inbox:
Thank you for your interest in our organization. We had many fine candidates apply for the position of (Associate) which made it very difficult to choose just one. Unfortunately, you were not selected. We wish you the very best in your future endeavors.
WTF?! I was in the final two! At least I already knew that I didn't get the job. What a blow to the ego.
Bleh. Grrr. Yargh. Ew.
No official news yet on my interview on Monday, but I do know that I am in the top two--and that the other candidate has 30+ years of experience. Now how the hell am I supposed to compete with that?
I took a Mental Health Day yesterday, which I'm sorry to say I didn't spend well. I used up most of the morning on Gchat with my colleagues at my current organization and the one where I'd like to work. By 11:00, I'd had enough and decided to go shopping with money I don't currently have. That's what credit cards are for, right? (Answer: wrong. This was the grief talking me into doing things I shouldn't.)
Needless to say, after hours of browsing and try on, I didn't find a single thing I wanted to buy. Let me rephrase that: I didn't find anything worth the hassle of standing in line, swiping the credit card, and lugging home with me. I knew deep down that no purchase was going to make me feel better about the job situation. Good for the wallet, but not so much for the spirit. And so I wandered about aimlessly, no shopping bags to keep me feeling temporarily fulfilled or happy. It was a sad sort of day.
The evening wasn't better. I suppose when it rains, it pours like hell, and yesterday was no exception--stuff with SCL I don't want to get into. I'm just wondering why I moved to this damn place at all.
My realization is that I should probably go back to therapy. Not a bad idea at all.
I took a Mental Health Day yesterday, which I'm sorry to say I didn't spend well. I used up most of the morning on Gchat with my colleagues at my current organization and the one where I'd like to work. By 11:00, I'd had enough and decided to go shopping with money I don't currently have. That's what credit cards are for, right? (Answer: wrong. This was the grief talking me into doing things I shouldn't.)
Needless to say, after hours of browsing and try on, I didn't find a single thing I wanted to buy. Let me rephrase that: I didn't find anything worth the hassle of standing in line, swiping the credit card, and lugging home with me. I knew deep down that no purchase was going to make me feel better about the job situation. Good for the wallet, but not so much for the spirit. And so I wandered about aimlessly, no shopping bags to keep me feeling temporarily fulfilled or happy. It was a sad sort of day.
The evening wasn't better. I suppose when it rains, it pours like hell, and yesterday was no exception--stuff with SCL I don't want to get into. I'm just wondering why I moved to this damn place at all.
My realization is that I should probably go back to therapy. Not a bad idea at all.
Wishin' and Hopin' with Cautious Optimism
You all know how I am not liking my current job so much, right? I decided to take matters into my own hands and apply for a new job at an organization where I have wanted to work for years. Granted they're kind of in a financial clutsterf*ck at the moment, but heck, what organization isn't? The fact that they're hiring during aforementioned clusterf*ck is further indication of its utter dysfunction. But, it is dysfunction of which I am acutely aware--unlike my current job when I strolled in with the rosiest of fashionable glasses. Oh yeah, and the position at the other organization would be $20K more than my current job. That's right. TWENTY GRAND.
Here's the thing. I have an inside source who believes that the head honcho already had somebody picked out for the job. This is disappointing but also sort of good to know so that I won't get my hopes up too high. So, as in the title, I am waiting with cautious optimism. At the end of the day, I have a job already, and as my good colleague who actually did the interviewing said to me today, he predicts I'll be working at his organization in the next three years or so. This might not be the job for me, but there will be a job for me eventually. I just have to trust.
All of this has me contemplating/fantasizing about what I would do were I to receive a job offer, accept, and give notice. Would I take the opportunity to say to my current boss, "Hey douchebag, I'm outta here because you suck, treated me and the others like shit, and I hate how you say "um" NINETY SEVEN times during a TEN MINUTE presentation! That's like saying "um" every six seconds!" Ok, so probably not quite like that. But I feel like I would have to say something to her about her shitty managment style and how sadly, I had no reason to stick around and that's why I'm leaving.
Hmm...I'm wondering, are my biggest motivations getting a big fat raise and the chance to say "good riddance" to my current boss?
Yeah, so my job is shitty. But that doesn't mean life is.
Here is a list of things in my life that are not shitty:
- My health. Despite feeling tired and run down from the week, I have yet to catch SCL's cold from several weeks back. I appear to be in the clear for the time being. <
> - My friends. Girlfriend L and her man are engaged! So excited to help with wedding dress shopping and vicarious wedding planning. Girlfriend C and new man K are visiting this weekend and we have plans for dinner this evening. Yay!
- My partner. SCL has listened to a lot of my bitchin' this week over work and never complained about it. Now it's time to have some fun and forget all about this stupid job because it does NOT define me. Piss me off? Yes. Frustrate me? YES! Define me? HELLS NO!
- My after-work activities, including adult glee club (read: super cheesy and fun) and college alumni reception at swanky location next week. This reminds me that my co-workers and I also need to plan another post-work happy hour!
So, this was for my own benefit, but I find when I'm feeling really bad about something that it helps to make out a list of what things I love in my life. Work, while difficult, is only one piece, and I have to keep in check how much of my energy and time I give it (reason #1 for not getting a blackberry; reason #2 is because I couldn't afford it!)
Oh dear. Have I fallen off the face of the blogosphere?
Hi friends. Have you been wondering if I was still alive? Or perhaps if I was just another unfaithful blogger who grew bored of writing and just gave up? The answers are yes and no.
The truth is that over the last month or so, my job has gone from generally disappointing to ridiculously crazy and intolerable. I've just returned from an East Coast "tour" with international guests, and it's all I can do not to quit at this very moment. I've done event planning in the past. I know how stressful it can be. But this time I do not even feel the satisfaction of a job well done. All I feel is dread of having to go back to work next week. Eh.
The biggest problem in my office--and probably most offices and certainly most relationships--is a lack of clear communication about expectations. No one knows what their role exactly is, which means that is constantly changing and being dictated by the circumstances and feelings of the ones holding the most power. The result is that we all get run into the ground, everyone ends up unhappy, and lately it's been so much that I have trouble setting it aside when I go home. And that is not cool.
I want to talk to my boss about this, but I've heard from other staff members that she doesn't react well when confronted about anything. But I can't just sit back and take all of this in. Something has to be done.
My question to all of you is have you found a way to go throughout your days at work without feeling totally miserable and powerless?
The truth is that over the last month or so, my job has gone from generally disappointing to ridiculously crazy and intolerable. I've just returned from an East Coast "tour" with international guests, and it's all I can do not to quit at this very moment. I've done event planning in the past. I know how stressful it can be. But this time I do not even feel the satisfaction of a job well done. All I feel is dread of having to go back to work next week. Eh.
The biggest problem in my office--and probably most offices and certainly most relationships--is a lack of clear communication about expectations. No one knows what their role exactly is, which means that is constantly changing and being dictated by the circumstances and feelings of the ones holding the most power. The result is that we all get run into the ground, everyone ends up unhappy, and lately it's been so much that I have trouble setting it aside when I go home. And that is not cool.
I want to talk to my boss about this, but I've heard from other staff members that she doesn't react well when confronted about anything. But I can't just sit back and take all of this in. Something has to be done.
My question to all of you is have you found a way to go throughout your days at work without feeling totally miserable and powerless?
Sniffles, Coughs, and Sleep (Or, lack thereof)
It's that time of year when colds abound, and SCL is their latest victim. He started feeling bad on Monday, and yesterday he sounded just terrible. In my opinion colds are underrated in the misery category. Yeah, so they're common, but there is nothing more horrible than a bad cold.
On Monday evening, we headed to bed around 9:30--SCL in a cold medicine-induced coma, and I just exhausted from the day. But around 11:30, it started. The clearing of the throat every few minutes. That is one of the worst stages of a cold, when you can't really swallow and you feel like you're going to drown in your own nasal drip. Ew. I felt horrible for him, but at the same time I wasn't getting any sleep either. So I reluctantly headed into the living room and plopped down on what I thought was our very comfy couch. As it turns out, it isn't the best for sleeping. I'm not sure if I got any more sleep by moving to the couch.
Last night I decided to sleep in the living room again, but this time I pulled out the twin mattress, thinking that would be a little bit better. Not so much. I tossed and turned all night, something I rarely if ever do when I'm in our bed. So now I'm going on two nights of very poor sleep, which in my situation is akin to death. The good news is that SCL has been through the worst of the cold and I may even get to sleep in our big bed tonight. Hurray!
SCL has been a pity-evoking, but not demanding sickie. In fact, he turned down nearly every offer of medicine, juice, or other comforts. But he did let me rub his back for awhile. Now I'm saying a prayer that I'm not the next victim...but it seems more than likely that I'll get sick, too.
To all you more experienced co-habitators, how do you avoid getting your love's germs? Or is it just an inevitable part of being together?
On Monday evening, we headed to bed around 9:30--SCL in a cold medicine-induced coma, and I just exhausted from the day. But around 11:30, it started. The clearing of the throat every few minutes. That is one of the worst stages of a cold, when you can't really swallow and you feel like you're going to drown in your own nasal drip. Ew. I felt horrible for him, but at the same time I wasn't getting any sleep either. So I reluctantly headed into the living room and plopped down on what I thought was our very comfy couch. As it turns out, it isn't the best for sleeping. I'm not sure if I got any more sleep by moving to the couch.
Last night I decided to sleep in the living room again, but this time I pulled out the twin mattress, thinking that would be a little bit better. Not so much. I tossed and turned all night, something I rarely if ever do when I'm in our bed. So now I'm going on two nights of very poor sleep, which in my situation is akin to death. The good news is that SCL has been through the worst of the cold and I may even get to sleep in our big bed tonight. Hurray!
SCL has been a pity-evoking, but not demanding sickie. In fact, he turned down nearly every offer of medicine, juice, or other comforts. But he did let me rub his back for awhile. Now I'm saying a prayer that I'm not the next victim...but it seems more than likely that I'll get sick, too.
To all you more experienced co-habitators, how do you avoid getting your love's germs? Or is it just an inevitable part of being together?
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