Summer and the "Unemployable" (?) Girl

These last few months have been filled with some life changes and lots of traveling. I love going to new places. Right now, while I have the time, I will pretty much go wherever someone suggests. “Why not?” is what I ask myself and if I have no legit reason to decline, I will probably accept the offer. (Probably, not definitely.)

At this moment in my life, I have no kids, no boyfriend, no 9-5 job . . .I can do whatever I want and since this may not be the case in a couple of years, I’m taking advantage of it. I am getting the feeling that I don’t want this summer to end. I love warm weather and the sunshine warms my soul. I need the sun. This past fall, winter and early spring was full of a lot of depression and sadness. I felt alone and isolated. I was grieving and I was lost. I felt cold and exposed. I want summer to be my state of mind all the time.

There is one thing that is lingering in my mind this summer: the fear that I am unemployable.

Okay, so technically since I’m a small business owner, I DO have a job. But, why can’t I confidently tell people that I have a job when they ask? Why am I so insecure? I hate this feeling. I feel like such a loser, but the truth is, people tell me how AWESOME it is that I have my own business. They tell me I should feel accomplished and I just don’t sometimes. I wonder what voice is in my head telling me that what I’m doing simply isn’t good enough? It’s the same voice that tells me I should be working for myself when I’m working for someone else. I need to stop listening to that voice because it is INSANE. I will never please that voice. It’s my inner gremlin and I want to stab it. (Side note: I may be schizophrenic.)

I know I am perfectly capable of running my own business and I love doing so, but the bottom line is that I am not making enough money to support myself. Being a creative entrepreneurial type is wonderful, but it would be DIVINE if I could make a good living doing what I love.

I’ve applied to jobs that I’m overqualified for and I’ve been rejected. I couldn’t even land a retail job because I don’t have enough retail experience. (?????) I have a MASTERS degree and I can’t work at Macy’s? I do not mean to brag or sound pretentious, but I’ve worked hard at my education. However, the sad truth is that my resume is just so all over the place. My background is in marketing, but I have no desire to work fulltime in marketing, especially for someone else. I enjoy marketing my own business, but it’s because I can follow my own vision. It’s because there’s an end to a means. In some small way, I’m helping others. I need what I do for 40 hours a week to have a point. I need to feel good about what I’m doing. 

So why go back to working for someone else?

I want to buy a house. I want to root myself. This is hard for me to do since I do not have a stable career. I know that the path of self-employment is riddled with the perils of not having a W-2 form to prove income and thus acquire a mortgage loan. I knew that this was the road ahead when I parted ways with my last horrid full-time day job. (For the record, I never QUIT that job, although I would be lying if I said I didn’t dream of it every second. I was “let go” because I could not look my boss in the eye and say that I wanted to be there when he asked me. My mother died a week before he asked me this question, so give me a break.)

Striking out on my own requires a ton of sacrifices and I am willing to make them. However, my desire for stability (a regular schedule, my own place, a dependable income) is speaking louder than anything else at this point. I will continue to work on BOOP and love every second of it, but until I can afford to pay all my monthly expenses, I am just going to have to put the job search at the top of my priorities again.

Now, if only I was employable . . .

Oy vey. 

Ghosts of Jobs Past: Post-College, Year One

Living in New York City had been a dream of mine since I was a little girl. After I graduated from college, I became obsessed with moving there. When people would ask me about post-graduation plans, I’d routinely tell them that I was going to move to NYC after graduation. What I’d be doing there was something I’d figure out eventually. I just wanted to live! (God, I was such an English major! I was so driven . . .and so naive.)

I scored an interview with a recruitment agency in Manhattan. I packed up my car with the hopes of never returning to a boring suburban Maryland existence again!

A few days later, I came back to Maryland feeling defeated. The interview went well, but I was not promised a job. About a few weeks after that, I landed an internship in Manhattan with the help of my older brother. 

A word about internships: 

Internships are fantastic. Internships act as real glimpses into the working world, as well as excellent resume builders. Unfortunately, they are normally unpaid and thus reserved for the economically advantaged or suuuuuuper-motivated. I never understood the benefits of an internship until I graduated from college and started looking for a job. My internship seemed to impress potential employers even more so than my college degree!

However, internships are not entirely realistic for students who need to earn an income while they are in school. I never took an internship while I was in college (or graduate school) because I had to work.

All this being said, if it’s possible to complete an internship, it’s worth it.

Adrienne as Publicity/Marketing Intern

I interned at the Mayor’s Office of Film, Theatre and Broadcasting. It was great working with the media and I enjoyed helping with major events throughout NYC. I worked, unpaid, from 8am - 5pm, 3 days a week. It was intense.

I had to make money somehow. I had a tough time finding part-time employment while interning. I ended up signing with a nanny service, but I didn’t have any luck. (That experience could have its own blog post!) 

Here are ways that I stayed afloat during these times: 

• My generous and wonderful cousin allowed me to stay with her for free. 
• I sold my car. 
• I borrowed money from my annoyed and confused parents. 
• I had to sneak on a Metro North train without paying . . . and I got caught. (My kind uncle had to pick me up in Westchester County somewhere.) 

I was a stressed, broke-ass mess. I cried one day because I couldn’t afford a smoothie from Jamba Juice. To be fair, the smoothie was supposed to be my lunch.

My brief time “working” in Manhattan was a great experience and opened so many doors, but it was hard as hell. 

Adrienne as Creative Marketing Associate 

What started out so sweet (my first REAL job with benefits!), ended with me crying in my supervisor’s office and handing her a resignation letter. To put it nicely, it was a very difficult learning experience. 

My position consisted of marketing junk mail to senior citizens. It was awful. I was depressed. I hated my job. After a couple of weeks, I didn’t even try. I felt so helpless and alone. I was/am so dramatic. 

It just wasn’t the right fit. I didn’t get along with my manager and I didn’t agree with the company’s mission. I didn’t feel like I had any input in our marketing efforts and I didn’t really care. 

When I started this series of posts about the ghosts of jobs past, I thought I’d share some juicy details about this job, but now I don’t know if including these details are relevant to my overall story.

I’m all for a good laugh at the expense of myself, but I don’t like talking shit for talking shit’s sake and that’s what I’d be doing if I spilled any details about my time with this unnamed company. I am fully aware of the fact that the purpose of these posts is to re-examine my past job experiences, but I think I've said enough about this job.

I’ve learned from my mistakes and I’m moving on.

Still to come:  930 Club, Freelancing 1.0, and 1913412440941409 Part-time Jobs! 

Ghosts of Jobs Past: Pre-College Jobs

“Your work is to discover your world and then with all your heart give yourself to it.” - Gautama Siddharta, the founder of Buddhism

I am currently going through a major career overhaul. I'm re-thinking my approach to employment. While navigating this journey, I find myself thinking about jobs that I’ve had in the past. I hope not to make the same mistakes that I’ve made before. At 27, I am exhausted by my inability to find a lucrative job, or career, that I like enough to stick with for longer than a couple of years.

I am obsessed with recognizing a pattern so that I can break the cycle. What better way to do so than to examine these experiences by writing them down?

The next few blog posts will explore my winding road of employment history. Hopefully, no future employers stumble upon my website. (Or maybe this will serve as healthy full disclosure.)

First up: pre-college jobs.

Adrienne as Cashier 

My first “real” job was as a cashier at Target during the summer between my 10th and 11th grade year of high school. I had just turned 16 and decided I wanted to make enough money to save for a car.

I remember very few things about this job. These things include:

• Brad Pitt and Jennifer Anniston’s wedding picture graced the cover of People Magazine during this time and I looked at the cover everyday for a week. 
• I got the CD Make Yourself by Incubus for free because I sold a Target credit card. (This album influenced my life in many ways as an angsty teenager.) 
• I remember a customer wearing a beautiful engagement ring that I absolutely adored. I told her I hoped to have one just like it one day. She said that I would. 
• I didn’t save a penny towards my car. Each paycheck was spent by buying things at Target.

In August, my family decided to rent a house at the beach. A few days before we were due to leave, I requested time off and my supervisor told me that I could not have off and that it was too short of notice because the schedule had already been set.

Of course, giving notice is pretty basic stuff, but I couldn’t fathom not being able to go on vacation with my family! What in the hell was I supposed to do?

“So, what if I HAVE to take off?” I asked, genuinely not understanding the concept of being told that I could not go on vacation.

“I don’t know what to tell you. You can’t just go on vacation without notice when you have a job. You have to let us know beforehand,” my very patient supervisor explained.

Now, to be fair, my mom had explained to me that there might be a problem with requesting off, but I was determined to make it happen. I really felt as though I had no choice in the matter and simply had to have off. I think the family trip was rather spontaneous and I had the option of staying at home with my dad for a few days, but I wanted to go to the beach!

Also, it was the end of summer and school was starting soon. I planned on ending my job a week or so after I got back from vacation anyway. Of course, I hadn’t told my supervisors about that either.

“Well, I don’t think this is going to work out. What would happen if I just can’t work here anymore?” I inquired.

My supervisor, again with disturbing patience, explained: “Well, if you quit without notice, then you may not be able to work at Target again in the future.”

“So I cannot even quit without giving two weeks notice?” I asked incredulously.

“I don’t plan on working for Target again anyway so that doesn’t seem like reason enough for notice,” I reasoned with myself.

I don’t remember the exact words that I used to quit my job at Target. I do remember my mom picking me up after work. I don’t remember her reaction exactly, but it probably included her favorite statement, often compounded with a sigh, that she used to respond to something irreversible that her children had done: “Oh well.”

Looking back, I know I had so much to learn. I don’t think I truly understood or respected the concept of employment. At the time, I believed that jobs were simply ways that my parents and other adults made a living. You just had a job. I never delved more deeply into the concept of a career until many years later.

During the next 11 years of my life, I would grow very accustomed to leaving jobs.

Adrienne as Supply/Mailroom Clerk 

My next memorable job occurred the summer after high school graduation. At the suggestion of my mother, I decided to try finding a job through a temporary employment agency. I was offered a temporary position for the summer as a supply/mailroom clerk at Lockheed Martin.

Working in a room with no window for 40 hours a week proved to be a boring and depressing summertime existence. I worked full-time and made lots of money for an 18-year-old, but I was miserable. I spent every day alone in a room with a fax machine, copier, computer and office supplies. I was chained to my desk. My mom and I met for lunch one day in the cafeteria (she worked for IBM in an adjoining office building) and I vowed never to work in an office again. She admitted that it wasn’t for everyone.

This was also my first experience working with grown-ass women who acted like they were in high school.

Occasionally, I had to cover the phones in the call center. This was exciting because I was able to socialize with a few boisterous and entertaining middle-aged women. I really bonded with a Jamaican woman who had an obsession with Janet Jackson. Her and I would talk about pop culture and our favorite new show, American Idol.

A woman who worked in another department, but was friendly with the call center ladies, would stop by the call center to gossip and chat. She kept telling me that I looked EXACTLY like her daughter. One fateful day she showed me a picture of her daughter (my "twin").

 I didn’t think I looked anything like her. I guess the look on my face said it all. I really hadn’t meant to offend her, but I could sense a coldness from her immediately after she showed me the picture.

One afternoon, a few days later, she came into the call center with leftover beverages from a luncheon. She asked everyone, except for me, if they wanted a soda. Once she left the room, my Jamaican buddy asked why I didn’t get anything. I told her that I wasn’t offered.

An hour or so later, the woman came back. My Jamaican ally boldly confronted the woman: “Why you ignore Adrienne and not offer her a drink? You don’t even acknowledge her. Are you mad ‘cause she don’t think she look like your daughter? Well, she don’t look a ting like her! What’s wrong with that? No excuse for your behavior to that girl.”

The woman was caught off-guard and apologized for her behavior. She asked if I wanted a soda, but I declined.

I realized that maybe I should have just smiled and politely agreed that I looked like her daughter. Or I could have said that she was beautiful, but I don't really see the resemblance. Lesson learned.

This experience taught me some key elements to workplace environments: always be aware of your reactions and always be diplomatic.

Also, it sucks working in rooms with no windows.

This wouldn’t be the last time I dealt with office politics or catty women. Fortunately, it also wouldn’t be the last time I had strong and sensible women to call out the cattiness.

But, more on that later.

Next up: The College Years

Writer/Whatever

Even bestselling authors have a side job.

Some, like showcased in the link above, open up cute little antique boutiques. Some decide to teach English or become professors. Some, like Harper Lee, publish one masterpiece and then stop writing. 

What does this have to do with me, you ask?

Well, let's just put it out there, I am not choosing to write for the money. That's stupid. Who would WANT this lifestyle by choice? I feel like as hard and lofty as my goals may seem, I have no choice. I know what I love and what makes me happy. There is no choice about what I am going to do . . .there's just the choice in HOW I am going to do it.

I need a steady income; I have rent and bills to pay. I haven't had a full-time job since August. After my mom passed away, I decided to give myself some much needed time and did so by walking away from an epically shitty and demanding job (buy me a drink and I'll tell you all about it) that I should have left a long time ago. I took this break with the vague notion that eventually I'd have to "get back on the horse" and find another job, hopefully less shitty on the shitty job spectrum.

I've always had my foot in the door of web content writing. I've published articles off and on since early 2008, but I've never made enough money in one month to even cover filling my gas tank. Sad, but true. I knew that I'd have to find a job to supplement my income while I worked on writing. The problem remains, what kind of job? 

I know the baseline income I need to make each month. I know that sitting in front of a computer in an office is not something I enjoy or am particularly good at. I know that I love working with people and helping others. I know that I like autonomy and responsibility. I love working in a positive work environment with people that feel like family.

I get a little touchy when people question my plans and ask me about money. It isn't like I am clueless and naive. I've done my research (I'm a trained librarian . . .) and I know this road is not easy. As I've said before, I really have no choice.

Right now I am continuing to focus efforts on writing and getting my name out there. I am also focused on finding a part-time or full-time position that can supplement and support my writing. I'd love to teach adults, but right now is not the time for me to go back to school for another degree. 

Whatever happens, I can go to sleep at night knowing that I've tried my best. Just because I am not able to make a living by my pen at present does not mean that I will never make a living by my pen. It just means that I need to revise a little.

I leave you with an inspirational quote from my mom: "Fake it 'til you make it, girlfriend."