I start a second job this coming week. I’m pretty pumped.
Also, I’m very confused.
If for some reason you don’t stalk me and haven’t found a way to read every comment I ever write on other people’s pages, then you might not be aware that within one year (2014-2015), I sent about 100 resumes and had about 90 interviews. I had actually started to write a blog post about it so I could tell the humorous stories from those rejections, but it turns out it’s still a downer to talk about in detail. Maybe I’m over 45 rejections and need another year to move on from the other 45.
Somehow, my current teaching position just came to me. I applied for a completely unrelated position in 2015, got the ol’, “Whoops, we want to hire you, but we can’t.” talk, and a year later someone who had seen my resume created a job for me.
I know. That doesn’t make sense, but I have to keep things vague. What if I teach you and you read my posts and discover that I keep a bridesmaid dress in my trunk “just in case?” I learned today that I have a reputation on campus for being hardcore and I’d like to keep it that way. It is both good — I need my students to work hard and earn their grades — and humorous — have you read this blog? How can someone who is afraid she’ll get stuck in a bathroom stall for all eternity be intimidating?
Alas, the job can only last for this school year. So I grabbed my stick, wrapped some snacks in a handkerchief and tied it to said stick, and hit the job trail.
not ready for another year of rejections. I was not ready to have fill out online applications that ask me to share jokes, describe myself in 140 characters, and tell which kitchen utensil I most relate to and why.
I had set out a new plan that I discussed with Ben over at Ben’s Bitter Blog, once my jokes, description, and moving essay about why I am a spork (You’re laughing, but this was my life) got me in the door. On this job hunt, instead of being prepared, attentive, and charming, I was going to be technologically savvy. This time, when interviewers asked, “How many lightbulbs fit in a bus?” I was going to answer by posting this on the company’s Facebook timeline:
While they looked at that, I figured that’d be a good time to take a selfie of myself during the interview, post it on Instagram, and tag them. #OOTD #Slaying #Newbie #CompanyName #NewBFFs
If they saw that I felt comfortable there, and I’ve already announced that I’m on the team, they couldn’t turn me away.
Since my phone would be out, anyway, I’d get out SnapChat and highlight my face with the floral crown filter for the next question. That way, when they asked what my three strengths are, I could say writing, then play the Snap twice so they hear it three times.
And when leaving the interview, I was prepared to followup, which you are supposed to do. On the ride down the elevator, I would text this meme to them:
This plan sounded solid.
Instead, I got an interview at a radio station a couple of weeks ago. I wasn’t very nervous, because, really… there comes a point when you stop getting nervous.
I thought I failed. I forgot to do anything that I had planned above. They never asked for jokes, a description of myself in 140 characters (note: when asked that, they don’t mean movie characters). They didn’t even care that I’m a spork. They cared about who I am, my related experience, and my related skills.
It was like a throwback to the 1990s, you guys.
And then, I thought I ruined it. We’d been talking about community meetings and police beats, and my mind was on crime. The interviewer asked me if I knew street names.
I nodded in my understanding way. I was picking up was he was throwing down. This is a news position and he wanted to make sure I was aware of the gang activity going on. Street names. Like, I’m Meggie at home, Meg on the streets. Y’know?
So my mind was racing because, lets face it, the worst thing I’ve done is accidentally walk into someone’s house because I thought it was a store. The only street gang I’m aware of are the T-Birds from Grease. The second thing to mind was West Side Story. So I was sitting there, waving my hands, sort of trying to flash gang signals, but not really because on my list of Things Definitely to Avoid at an Interview, flashing gang signs is pretty close to the top. So instead, I flashed peace signs in a hip way while I thought about what the gangs in this town could possibly call themselves.
Finally, the interviewer went up to the white board and wrote, “Van Nuys.”
I tilted my head and said, “Oh, yeah. Van-ice…?”
He sat down and said, “Okay, so you can pronounce street names. If you see something like this, you can pronounce it correctly on the radio.”
I thought I should explain why I was silently, but with flair, flashing the peace sign and the interviewer attempted to understand. I, on the other hand, was stifling such a great urge to laught at my, “Really, Meg, how do create such strange scenarios?” thought, that the laughs bypassed my straight face and came pouring out through Laughter Tears.
I was pretty sure my strange burst of hip peace-spreading was the end of me. Instead, they called with a job offer…
… created for me! The problem isn’t that I’m really weird. It’s that I lack radio experience and don’t get what the buttons do.
So I’ll work as a Megs to learn what the buttons do, and I’ll talk about street names, I guess. My stress level is down because I know when this teaching job is up, I have another job in my field to keep me rolling. And it didn’t take 90 tries!
My advice to you who are job searching:
Patience is everything.
Everyone will say be yourself at job interviews.
Everyone will say the right job will come.
Everyone I will tell you to use the “What do you call cheese that isn’t yours? Nacho cheese.” joke.
You, too, can be a spork.
But none of it settles you. None of it tells you when you’ll get the job you want.
Sporadically flash the peace sign and hold on.