What Do You Want
Part 2 of a series of 4 on The Job Hunt.
Can you do 14:15? Claire texted. We were supposed to meet at 3PM.
No problem!
Always the enthusiastic No problem.
As a job seeker, you exist in a perpetual state of willingness.
(I know, I know. It’s important to remember what YOU want and that YOU are the asset and that you are NOT desperate. One must place an appropriate premium on one’s time and one’s dignity always stay true to one’s self and follow one’s passion. Because, in the end, all of this pesky employment business will work itself out once you’ve got your chakras aligned.
I am sure this is excellent advice for many, many people. It didn’t work out for me so I reverted to the trusty desperation method.)
Always be ready to give an enthusiastic Yes, Yep, Sure, No Problem. For example:
Are you free for a call today?
Yes!
She’s stepping into a meeting but said she will call you back in 3 days. Is that OK?
Yes!
We won’t be able to get back to you for another month, does that work for you?
Yes!
Would you be happy to take a more junior role?
Yes!
Are you able to accept 20% less than your previous salary?
Yes!
Temporary contract?
Yes!
How about working for free?
Sure, that’s absolutely fine.
Claire was a tenuous friend of a friend. In her LinkedIn profile, she wore a dark blue suit and held a tumbler pointing at something off camera — mid-joke about shorting commodities, no doubt. Not the kind of person who would appreciate tardiness to a coffee date! I thought. I had 15 minutes to make a 30 minute journey.
Phone. Keys. Deodorant. Hat to keep hair straight. Ratty old jacket that I will hide in my rucksack upon arrival. I swerved through construction and one-way traffic, working up a sweat, wishing I left my jacket at home but mentally high-fiving myself for remembering deodorant.
Isn’t this funny? I look like I’m on a mission to catch the last train to paradise when all I’m really trying to do is avoid being three minutes late for a coffee date with a sort-of friend of a friend to “learn more about her experience” working at a company that will never hire me for a job that I don’t even want.
Look, I know work is work. I’m not one of these I Must Live My Passion Every Minute Of Every Day millennials. And I never expected the job hunt to be easy. OK, yes I did. (No point denying the lingering Special Snowflake Complex from my middle class upbringing.)
But I suppose I did think that, if it was hard, the effort would be towards something that I really Wanted with a capital W. I could have imagined a scenario where I discovered a Really Cool Job, and that I would slog through the interminable circus hoops of LinkedIn messages and coffee dates and interviews and tests and handshakes and CVs and cover letters to get it — my morale bolstered by the goal-orientedness of my quest. (In fact, that is what happened earlier this year, but that story’s unravelling is too long to share here.)
Or, in an equally likely scenario, I could imagine ending up doing something I didn’t necessarily Want with a capital W, but something that was just fine — and that I would arrive there by happy accident. Someone would hire me to do something that didn’t seem all that bad, and that would lead to one thing and the next and I would wake up in my 30s getting paid to do something that was perfectly OK, and I would pour my excess zeal for life into exotic cooking or outdoor adventures.
Due to what I now see as a privileged conceit, I didn’t think that I would have to chase jobs that I wanted with the tiniest of w’s (in the way that I want cereal for breakfast) like a lion on the savannah. I didn’t imagine myself kneeling at the altar of the 9–5 office gig, groveling and begging with literal sweat and tears, willing to sacrifice my personality and to rewrite my life story for sweet sweet permission to kiss the bottom rung of a ladder with mostly men climbing to the top. London innit?
Claire wore heels and bangley bracelets, but her demeanor was markedly masculine. Her eyes were pale blue, perfectly round and electric in a balloon-rubbed-on-cotton way. Charged and ready to zap you at any moment. She didn’t smile and she spoke in a low, fast, French lilted accent. We went for sushi. I panic ordered some California rolls even though I’d already eaten lunch. It was the usual jungle of be-suited Londoners getting their midday fast-casual Asian fix. I could only hear half of what she said over the bustle.
What it means for your career… Long hours…. 3am most nights… You can do anything for two years…. Sociopaths…. Hard core due diligence…. 125k a year…. Finding synergies… All the execs are men… Need to think about what you want… And how bad you want it…
