Shitty Blog
What's Portland like?
The call came in on a Tuesday morning. “We’ve gotten ahold of your resume, would you be interested in an administrative assistant position?”
Would I? You mean, would I like to take a job taking phone calls and making travel arrangements for people who have real jobs?
Sure. I’ll take it. What are my options anyway? My editor said she’d publish my article last week and it still hasn’t made it in. Haven’t been offered any new assignments in two weeks. My job at the bakery is a joke.
Years of college, learning Spanish, taking on every responsibility I could leads to... this? Thoughts turn dark… failure. Suicide? OK—not quite so dark, but dark.
Then, an email! A letter! A phone call! I see the light at the end of the tunnel!
My article is in! At long last!
But wait… it is published in, perhaps, the worst possible place a published article could be published: Inside, back page of the insert publication inside the newspaper. Not to mention it’s been chopped, rearranged, reworded, retitled and pretty much totally different than what I wrote. And it’s a stupid story in the first place. I won’t be showing anyone this piece of shit. At least I get paid.
But wait! Here's a letter in the mail from the employment department!
It is my resume and clips I sent to them two days ago. They sent it all back to me, unread. With this message: “In order for us to provide you with employment services, you much enroll in our system online.” I tear it up. I read the instructions, they said to mail it to this address:
OREGON EMPLOYMENT DEPT.
1433 SW 6TH AVENUE P.O. BOX 159
PORTLAND, OR 97207-0159
They lied. I spend half an hour on the site, inputting everything into fill in the blanks that's already clearly written in my cover letter and resume. Then the site tells me my skills do not match up with any openings. I'm lucky to still have this laptop, it nearly went through the window.
But then later, an email! From my dream job! I may have an interview later this month. Maybe. At first they told me they were going to have this position filled by August 15. That was 2 days ago.
Somehow, I get enough confidence to make another round of story pitches to random editors I have sought out. Where do these ideas keep coming from? What is it in me that makes me get back on my feet and keep trying? How is it possible that my motivation is manifesting itself into anything productive? It hasn't been rewarding, that's for sure.
Sunday morning. I make seven pitches to four different editors. It’s been four days. I have not heard back from any of them.
Somehow, I think they still might. My optimism surprises me. In this new age of instant everything, it still takes a week for anyone to respond to an email.
So, I’ll gladly come work as an assistant. Let me use my life to help make your dreams come true as I struggle to remember what it’s like to enjoy work…To feel some kind of fulfillment. To be appreciated and allowed to use my brain.
Here's my favorite line from this job description: "Any research project work is largely restricted to clerical help and secondary research."
Limits and boundaries before I even get started. I can't wait. Please, though, please hire me!!
The call came in on a Tuesday morning. “We’ve gotten ahold of your resume, would you be interested in an administrative assistant position?”
Would I? You mean, would I like to take a job taking phone calls and making travel arrangements for people who have real jobs?
Sure. I’ll take it. What are my options anyway? My editor said she’d publish my article last week and it still hasn’t made it in. Haven’t been offered any new assignments in two weeks. My job at the bakery is a joke.
Years of college, learning Spanish, taking on every responsibility I could leads to... this? Thoughts turn dark… failure. Suicide? OK—not quite so dark, but dark.
Then, an email! A letter! A phone call! I see the light at the end of the tunnel!
My article is in! At long last!
But wait… it is published in, perhaps, the worst possible place a published article could be published: Inside, back page of the insert publication inside the newspaper. Not to mention it’s been chopped, rearranged, reworded, retitled and pretty much totally different than what I wrote. And it’s a stupid story in the first place. I won’t be showing anyone this piece of shit. At least I get paid.
But wait! Here's a letter in the mail from the employment department!
It is my resume and clips I sent to them two days ago. They sent it all back to me, unread. With this message: “In order for us to provide you with employment services, you much enroll in our system online.” I tear it up. I read the instructions, they said to mail it to this address:
OREGON EMPLOYMENT DEPT.
1433 SW 6TH AVENUE P.O. BOX 159
PORTLAND, OR 97207-0159
They lied. I spend half an hour on the site, inputting everything into fill in the blanks that's already clearly written in my cover letter and resume. Then the site tells me my skills do not match up with any openings. I'm lucky to still have this laptop, it nearly went through the window.
But then later, an email! From my dream job! I may have an interview later this month. Maybe. At first they told me they were going to have this position filled by August 15. That was 2 days ago.
Somehow, I get enough confidence to make another round of story pitches to random editors I have sought out. Where do these ideas keep coming from? What is it in me that makes me get back on my feet and keep trying? How is it possible that my motivation is manifesting itself into anything productive? It hasn't been rewarding, that's for sure.
Sunday morning. I make seven pitches to four different editors. It’s been four days. I have not heard back from any of them.
Somehow, I think they still might. My optimism surprises me. In this new age of instant everything, it still takes a week for anyone to respond to an email.
So, I’ll gladly come work as an assistant. Let me use my life to help make your dreams come true as I struggle to remember what it’s like to enjoy work…To feel some kind of fulfillment. To be appreciated and allowed to use my brain.
Here's my favorite line from this job description: "Any research project work is largely restricted to clerical help and secondary research."
Limits and boundaries before I even get started. I can't wait. Please, though, please hire me!!
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