Jobs Really Cut Into Your Blogging Time

It's been a long time. Long time. But it seems like it was just yesterday. We pick up just like we'd never been apart.

Right? I know I've been away. I know it seems like I've been ignoring you. But you've been in my heart and on my mind the whole time. I swear. Aww, don't be mad. You know I love you.

The thing is, working really does take up most of one's day. And when I get home from work, my brain is tuckered out and I don't have anything interesting to say, and I decide that there's no point in me wasting your precious time with idle prattle -- like I'm doing right now -- so I don't write a blog piece.

Is "having a job" a good excuse for slacking off on writing a blog about "not having a job"? Well, no, maybe it's a lousy excuse.

In fact I'm sure that it is. My little sister has just started not just one blog -- walkinginmyconverse.blogspot.com -- but two blogs, and is writing every day. She manages to squeeze this in, around getting an adorably grumpy six-year-old to kindergarten and getting a wild three-year-old back into the clothes she's always tearing off. Around her duties as president of the nursery school -- duties that often involve getting the two teachers to behave like adults instead of petulant little girls. Around driving my mother to doctor's appointments. Around teaching hula hooping classes. Around making dinner for her husband and whomever else happens to have invited themselves over. (Guilty.) 

I've always been very open about the fact that my sister is far superior to me, particularly in the categories of cuteness, friendliness, confidence, and style. It's true. Ask anyone. All boys who have met her have at one time or another had "A Case of the Caties." And I've come to peace with that. But now that she's gone and set another high bar for blogging frequency and blogging quality, I am reminded that I must step up my game.

So, get ready, chickens. I've got a few more posts already written, and they'll be to blow your mind over the next few days... Well I don't know if they'll blow your mind. But at least they'll be better than this one.

Unemployment Lesson #2: Park Benches are Great

As I head to the office on day one of my new job, my bench gives me a friendly smile of encouragement. Park benches are an unemployed person's close personal friend (and not just because you might end up sleeping on such a bench one night, under a blanket made of newspapers). They are wonderful because they provide a low-pressure way for you to observe -- and eventually become part of -- a new world.  

I've mentioned the importance of daily rituals before. After I lost my job, I spent several months shuffling aimlessly around my apartment every morning. Eventually, however, I created a morning ritual for my jobless shiftless self. I would get up, do some hula hooping, make my coffee, get dressed, grab my iPod and a notebook, and head out to my favorite park bench, around the corner and two blocks down.

Good ol' bench. It was always there for me. It gave me a destination; a direction to head in.

And eventually, my bench introduced me to new friends. Perfect strangers would smile, chat, offer hopeful words, and supply surprisingly honest information about themselves. (And by "honest information about themselves" I mean things like their sincere emotions and aspirations, not just descriptions of things happening in their pants.) Being that these new friends were people who were sitting on benches during the daylight hours, rather than sitting in an office, these people were actually quite a bit different than most other people I know. Different ages, different vocations, different backgrounds, different views on life, different views on work. Inexplicably, they had every confidence that I would find work again, and every confidence that I'd be good at it.

Over the months my attitudes toward many things began to change. My bench, the people I met, the wind whooshing its way through the trees -- they all slowly unraveled the tightly woven, rock-hard snarls of foolish assumptions that had been twisting me up inside for longer than I could remember. They allowed me to release some of the sources of stress that had become a part of my very being.  

I realized that I didn't always need to appear that I was busily doing something fascinating and important -- it was okay to spend some time simply sitting, soaking up the sun, watching the clouds slide by. I didn't need to worry if my dress was showing a bit more leg than I would normally show at the office. I realized I didn't need to be ashamed to say I was unemployed to anyone. I didn't need to be defined by my work or by my job title. I realized that maybe I didn't need to define myself at all. Maybe I just needed to be -- be myself and let others come to their own conclusions about who or what I am. My park-bench friends seemed to be cool with that. And so, I decided, should I.

Yes, I also met some creeps and some nutjobs. After all, benches don't judge--they provide pleasant seating for any creature -- great or small, cool or creepy, sane or insane, employed or unemployed. And for that, I thank them.

Unemployment Lesson #1: Forgive Yourself for Being Miserable

Experts schmexperts.

During the six months I spent unemployed, I climbed a mountain or two to hear the wisdom of career advancement gurus. I listened as they confidently orated about "shameless" networking, career rebirth, perfected resumes, tireless writing of uniquely powerful cover letter after cover letter...

It all sounds great... but it's easier said than done.

In fact, it's damn near impossible. And that's the truth. It's the truth for everyone. There's no way you're going to get it perfect every time. There's no way you're not going to occasionally make a typo on a cover letter. There's no way you're going to apply to 10 jobs every day. There's no way you're going to become fluent in the lingo of every industry you want to break into--not when you need to send in an application within 10 seconds of when the job was posted if you want to have any chance of getting it.

And there's no way you're not going to feel sorry for yourself, at least once in a while.

So forgive yourself for your off days. And once the words of the sages in ivory towers start to make you feel lousy instead of inspired, start wearing earplugs.

Holy Crap, I Got a Job.

Holy crap. I got a job.
More on the details later. Now, it's time to celebrate! DJ Kool... if you please?

Update on Wednesday, November 10, 2010 at 10:19AM by Sara Peters

I start Monday!!!
But, don't fret, my pets. Just because I've gotten a job doesn't mean that Happy in Hooverville is going away. This week I will begin writing a series of the top 20-ish things I learned by being unemployed. And then of course there will be much to say about making the transition back to being a working gal once more. Needless to say, I'm grateful and excited... and nervous. Wish me luck!

No Marketable Skills? Or Marketing Them to the Wrong People?

I watch a lot of cartoons. My mind is full of detailed knowledge about the programming on the Cartoon Network, Disney XD and Boomerang.

I am perfectly happy to devote a portion of my brain's storage space to cartoon data; but I must admit that this data is rarely useful. Employers do not ask me questions like "What duo creates the better inventions--Susan and Mary Test, or Phineas and Ferb?" My friends do not commonly ask for my opinions about Velma's forceful pursuit of a romantic relationship with Shaggy on the new Scooby-Doo Mystery Incorporated series. (FYI: I'm against it.)

To my nephew and nieces, however, I am priceless. Usually it's my interest in Teen Titans that scores me points with the little ones, but this weekend it was Ben 10 (and the subsequent series Ben 10 Alien Force and Ben 10 Ultimate Alien). When the three-year-old gets agitated because no one understands what she means by "ommyrix," I recognize that she's trying to say "Omnitrix," the device Ben uses to transform into an alien. When the six-year-old just wants someone to talk to him about the merits of all the aliens Ben changes into, he turns to me, because I can tell him that I like Big Chill and Wildmutt the best, but I'm not a fan of Brain Storm. 

This got me to thinking. I often hear my fellow job-seekers saying that they don't have enough marketable skills (or being told that they don't have enough). However, maybe they're just trying to sell their skills to the wrong buyers. Maybe instead of looking for the job you want, maybe you should be looking for the job that wants you.

And by "you," I don't necessarily mean your credentials. Think past the MBA you have or don't have. Think beyond the certification in whoziwhatsit you've earned or haven't earned. Think outside the industries or job titles you search for when scanning through online wanted ads. Maybe you used to be a teacher who liked to draw; maybe now you should be an illustrator for children's books.

Wildmutt doesn't need eyes. Maybe you don't need anything new either.Who knows? I certainly don't. I wish my niece and nephew could afford to provide me a living wage, health benefits and a 401K plan, but they can't. The point is: someone wants you, just as you are. But they very well might be waiting for you someplace you've never looked, nor ever thought to look. So instead of looking at yourself, thinking about what you don't have, start looking out for a new place where they'll appreciate you for what you already do have.