21 Days to get a Job
Back in October 2012, I got made redundant. 29 years old and facing redundancy. I guess it could be much worse. I could be twice as old, have little savings, kids and wife and these feelings of desolation and sadness would be compounded, and I guess that’s why lots of people decide that only an extreme, fanatical immersion in religion or alcohol or even suicide is the answer. I like to think I would take a very positive attitude towards it, and hopefully have a lot of helpful friends and relatives to turn to.
I decided that instead of not washing, alcoholism, eating instant noodles and weeping into my semi-naked lap and enhancing the ambidextrous skills of moving the mouse and typing one handed, I would do something productive enough like writing a diary. Take Anne Frank; she managed living in an attic for the most part of World War 2 and I bet keeping a diary helped her deal with the pain. If someone could get through the suffering and emotional torture of hiding from the Nazis just by writing, I could easily get through a redundancy just by writing.
On the drunken evening of my redundancy I decided this — that I would write. Strangely I had my laptop with me that day too.
It became a mission of mine to get a job as quickly as possible.
I felt it was justified to be pissed off and attempted to quantify my sense of loss and bewilderment instead of just staying angry and confused.
They couldn’t organise a root in a brothel with a fist full of fifties
I managed through this period reasonably well, albeit with some semi-permanent scarring (physical, no I didn’t self harm — I got a stress-related eye infection) and an added resentment to my already jaded contempt of corporate companies and shitty management (the technical term is “not knowing your arse from your elbow” or a phrase that another previous team lead of mine used pretty much on a daily basis “a piss up; in a brewery; couldn’t organise”….and a phrase one of my friends says, a lot “they couldn’t organise a root in a brothel with a fist full of fifties”.)
I’m pretty thankful to the immense support network I had, nearly everyone I spoke to had words of encouragement for me. Many did make “I bet all you’ve been doing is watching porn and wanking” jokes, but in between that, gave me words of advice and guidance. Actually, most people who I came into contact with regarding my redundancy were really supportive and positive.
Day 0 (3/10/12)
I feel….depressed. That drunken sadness. It’s not really a depressed feeling yet though. Even though I knew the company was losing money and had considered the thought of redundancy and the large payout — I didn’t expect it would be me. Now that it is here, staring me in the face, I feel that it is too much to handle. Too much to think about.
Why did they choose me? Maybe I think it was because I didn’t suck enough cock, or bury my nose deep down in someone’s pubic mound and they didn’t feel the two slightly humidly warm jets of nasal powered air tickling the base of their shaft.
Enjoying some corporate cock doesn’t change a shit situation
Maybe it’s cos I didn’t want to fondle their balls or slowly massage each testicle with my slobbery lips. Maybe it’s because I argued and disagreed so much with my manager.
I argued back and caused problems only because problems were caused for me.
So many maybes.
Maybe it was because I still have a good chance at getting another job….maybe it’s because I was very vociferous over my job and its inadequacies and problems. Maybe it’s because I vocalised too many opinions; some positive, some negative. Praise was given were praise was due and if a situation deserved to be exalted. When a situation was shit, rather than just beat about the bush and give someones genitals a little tickle; a spade deserves to be called a spade. Taking some corporate cock in the bum doesn’t change a shit situation. It just makes it worse. Why would you want to put up with that?! Money is good, but selling out and giving into something that you don’t believe in is emotionally worse. To sell your soul and to give into someone else’s idea is pretty bad. I guess that’s why some say that it is better to work for yourself than for someone else.
A shitty situation becomes the norm, then another shittier situation comes along. Soon that shittier situation becomes the shitty situation and the original shitty situation becomes something positive. Eventually things become so shitty that we’re working in abhorrent amounts of shit and anything just a little bit poo stained is held in high regard.
Day 1 (4/10/12)
Go to bed at 1am on the morning of day 1 with the hangover already kicking in. Have a terrible sleep. Wake at 6 wide awake. Time to look for some jobs.
Examine CV. Examine Covering Letter. Find a job for a “technical writer” I’ve been interested in for a while. It’s a pretty big tech company. Tailor letter and CV for that job. Apply.
Surf the Internet a bit more. Try to relax and check news. Doesn’t work. Check Facebook. That engages me for about 20 minutes before I get restless.
Fury starting to lift. Not depression or mania yet, but just a sense that I must somehow resolve this situation. I have enough money for a few months mortgage payments, and to live, maybe even go on a little holiday. But right now I just want to find a job.
Check a bit more Facebook and think if I want to watch something (news, cartoons) while I eat. I tab away from Facebook. Nope. Job searching.
Make a few more searches and decide that I should create a list of potential jobs. Apply for one job I have shortlisted. Tailor CV and CL. This site even has a little application form.
Uhoh. Maybe this particular job isn’t real. Looks like this company is just fishing. Oh well….hit APPLY anyway.
Apply for yet another job I have in my shortlist, also for some sort of “technical writer with a software engineer background”. Tailor CV, hit apply.
Go to eat some breakfast. Bring breakfast back to desk, check a bit more Facebook and think if I want to watch something (news, cartoons) while I eat. I tab away from Facebook. Nope. Job searching.
Read someone’s blog about their working day. A technical writer…..hmmmmm…is that going to be too boring? It pays well, and I have skills for it. Better stick with what I’ve been doing for the past 5 years for now. Adjust CV a bit more and apply for a Contracting job. Don’t submit a cover letter. Ooopsie. Ah well, they can ring me if they have questions. My CV looks interesting.
Find another interesting job, hit APPLY — a mini application form. Sigh.
Fill it in, attach yet another tailored CV and hit submit. This job I’m pretty under-qualified for. They want 5 years experience. Glad I submitted that Cover Letter….oh wait,….I didn’t….SHIT, I DIDN’T?!
Panic. Curse. I didn’t send it. Repeat expletives in no particular order while adjusting my CL.
Reapply again for the job and this time attach a tailored CL. Phew. A double submission, not great….but hopefully they’ll read my CL, and then look for my CV.
I was already feeling a bit hyper on excitement anyway. I have a habit of getting the shits after having too much caffeine then mixing it with alcohol too.
Find another job I have shortlisted and hit APPLY. Fuck it. It’s the last shortlisted one I have. I might as well apply. Tailor CV but not the CL. It’s just a resizable text entry boxes for the CL. Can’t be that important. I bet it’s just another fake job designed to lure the hopeful jobless into the jaws of a recruiter.
Relax. It’s now about 9am. Check Facebook a bit more, write an email to my old colleagues saying “goodbye”. Check and recheck email. Read some more blogs about jobs.
9 turns into 9:30, 9:31, 9:32. Why is no one emailing me! I guess it’s too early. 10am comes and goes. Replies from old colleagues but no job related email. Just one saying a cheery “thanks for applying!”.
Reply to emails for colleagues. 11am I get a call. Oh my God….. Let it ring 2 times….voicemail then ring them back, or just pick up? Compose myself, wait 3 more rings, then pick up.
A job agent sounding very excited. “HELLO LACHLAN! AMAZING CV, JUST HAD TO TALK TO YOU” an excited English accent boomed down the phone. “TELL ME ABOUT [your previous company]”. I explain. He stops me half way through. I panic a bit. Was I babbling? I have a bad habit of babbling and becoming too technical too soon. He was still excited. I get invited to go and meet him later that day. He explains about the contract jobs he has. Big companies. He politely asks my salary. I tell him. He sounds neutral. He calmly tells me the payments for jobs he usually deals with. I’m impressed. I don’t show it. Well, I try not to, with just a nonchalant “great. Sounds cool” even though the lowest daily wage is nearly double of my previous one. We arrange to meet later that afternoon.
A few hours later, I’m sitting in a bar. He rang me to say he’d be late, so I’m just round the corner of his office. Maybe beer’s not the best idea considering I went out last night, got a hangover BEFORE I went to bed, and only had about 4 hours sleep… Maybe I should pick up a coffee too. On my walk to the recruiters office, I decided that a high-strength caffeine drink wouldn’t play too nicely with the albeit tiny amount of alcohol in my system. I was already feeling a bit hyper on excitement anyway. I have a habit of getting the shits after having too much caffeine then mixing it with alcohol too….
The rest of the story is coming soon. Spoiler alert: It took a few weeks, but I eventually got a job. The rest of the story is coming soon.
Post Script — 7 weeks later after redundancy…
I decided to celebrate in a Chinese New Year festival sort of way — have little celebrations over the next few weeks…
My other colleague who got made redundant finally got a job last week. I feel pleased. I do think that he probably was enjoying having a break though and like the joke of the next unemployed girl with one enlarged breast getting job seekers allowance, well, she is milking it sort of way — I think he was liking having time off to drive his car, play computer games, spend time with his girlfriend, etc. After all, he is pretty smart and finding a new job wouldn’t be too difficult. Anyway, I was very happy to learn he got a decent job and have spoken to him and he seems happy.
The little absurdities of life have returned. :)My new job is great. The people are great. The working environment is good. The location is superb. I look back now on my old job, and while I do feel a tiny bit angry for being made to leave (I could say lots of nasty words and curse them with 1000 years of brain gnawing parasites), I still view it as just something necessary in my life to jar me out of my comfort zone. I view it as a valuable life experience.
4 years later…
Looking back on this experience I am glad that I did what I did, and just focussed on getting a job without succumbing to urges just to sit around and do nothing and feel depressed. I know a lot more now though and would probably behave a little differently. I didn’t understand much more about what I wanted to do in life but I knew that I did want to make changes in my life. After this episode of redundancy, it got me on the path of learning about self-growth and how to be a better version of myself. I learnt that I should concentrate on the things that were important to me. My sleeping habits changed, I started experimenting with optimising my sleep, I started meditation and yoga. Instead of just being content with skills that I did have and not try to better myself, I taught myself new skills and things that I didn’t know. And most of all I started seeing progress. After a few months I was going to bed at a regular time and getting up earlier. I was losing weight and becoming physically stronger.
