“I’m On My Way. . .”

Yep, you heard right.

I'm. On. My. Way.

Finally!

Well, at least I think so.

After six face-to-face interviews totaling more than sixteen hours of questions. I've been told I'm the "leading candidate" for a great job.

No, not the job I interviewed for in March. After three interviews and making it to the top two finalists, that nonprofit job went to a guy with manufacturing experience. Many executive jobs in manufacturing these days, all requiring manufacturing experience, and he just had to horn in on my field. Go figure that one out.

It's a different job.

A better job. A way, way, way better job.

A better commute.

A better company.

And, the reason, I'm being considered? Because I failed to get the other job.

Well, let's face it, if I had gotten the other job I wouldn't have even been available for this one. At the time, my friend the executive recruiter didn't even have a contract to do this search yet. But my performance in the interview for the job I failed to get landed me an interview for this one.

Is it really possible to score an awesome job by failing to get a just-OK job?

Apparently so.

Perhaps Denzel Washington was right when he recently stated to the Class of 2011 at the University of Pennsylvania:

…you will fail at some point in your life. Accept it. You will lose.  You will embarrass yourself. You will suck at something. There is no doubt about it. …I'm telling you—embrace it. …But do you have guts to fail? …If you don't fail… you're not even trying. …Sometimes it's the best way to figure out where you're going. Your life will never be a straight path. …Because the chances you take, the people you meet, the people you love, the faith that you have—that's what's going to define your life. …Never be discouraged. Never hold back. Give everything you've got.

And, a recent Nike commercial featuring NBA-great Michael Jordan recounts his many failures before stating, "I've failed over and over and over again in my life. And, that is why I succeed."

Because I tried so many times and so long and so hard, I've failed.

Because I've failed and picked myself up to try again, I will succeed.

People who never do anything, never fail, but they never succeed either.

And, while failure can be a great learning tool in itself, sometimes it places you on a different path that turns out to be a better path—the right path.

It's not over yet.

There's still much to be done before I cross that finish line.

I'm almost terrified to hope again. But my annoying, internal voice seems to be the eternal optimist. My head is saying "Don't get your hopes up again."

My heart is saying "This is it."

I don't know which one to listen to, but maybe I should listen to both.

I don't even know how to feel.

But, maybe that's the real in real life.

I'm excited.

I'm scared.

I feel like dancing.

I feel like going back to bed with the covers over my head.

And, with all those feelings, I wait for the news that may change my life or dash my dreams.

But, in spite of those nagging thoughts, I can't help singing "Tell everybody I'm on my way. . ."

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Just for Fun: This song is just so happy that I can't help but smile when I hear it. Enjoy Phil Collins singing "I'm on My Way" from the Brother Bear movie soundtrack.

And, check out Michael Jordan's commercial.

Enjoy Denzel Washington's speech to the University of Pennsylvania's graduating class in 2011.

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Photo credits: Note: Ariel not pictured.

Raining Day: http://www.flickr.com/photos/henrie/5557814231/

Black Bean Soup:http://www.flickr.com/photos/lanuiop/3268900198/

Untitled: http://www.flickr.com/photos/rileyalexandra/3763114296/

 

Gloom, Despair and Agony on Me

I've hit a wall in my job search.

Really.

Hit. A. Wall.

Hard.

The two-year job search is finally taking its toll.

'Bout time, you say?

Uh-huh. You're probably right.

It's been 25 months of job search and 17 months on the dole.

I'm exhausted.

I'm sick of it.

I'm really annoyed with the whole process.

After hundreds of résumé submissions and job applications—thousands if you count all those generic e-blasts sent to recruiters—and countless hours of work and networking, I've reached the end of my energy.

As we say in the South:

I'm plum tuckered out;

Worn to a frazzle;

Slap-dab sick of the whole dang thing.

The irony? I'm starting to get interviews for the first time in ages.

Two weeks ago, I had a real in-person interview—only the fourth dress-up-and-go situation since this nightmare began. Sure, I've had numerous phone interviews, but can you believe that in 25 months this was only the fourth actual look-'em-in-the-eye event?

A lot of good it did to pull on that tummy-tucking-feels-like-cast-iron-even-though-it's-spandex thingie (dare I say "girdle"?), style the hair, drive out of town for hours and stay overnight. As usual, the lucky winner is not this girl. Instead, they chose two internal candidates to move forward in the process. I've lost to more internal candidates than I would like to think about.

We interrupt this blog post for a rant:

Why, time after time, do companies, post jobs, hire recruiters, get applicants' hopes up, when all the time the person who'll wind up with the job is already sitting in the company's office at the time of the posting?

Sometimes they think they can "do better" but, c'mon, how encouraging is that to the internal candidate who ultimately gets the job?

Most of the time, it's about money. They suddenly realized they can save thousands by not paying the recruiter (And if you think I'm ticked off you should hear what these recruiters have to say! They usually only get paid if the company hires their candidates). And, internal candidates play right into their hands—they're happy for a promotion and a raise (never realizing it was probably far less than they would've given an outside candidate). Besides, companies score financially, too, when they don't have to move anyone in from out of state.

Even if they hire an external candidate for the position vacated by the recently promoted employee, they have just pushed the real opening lower down the experience ladder and salary scale.

And, yeah, I've tried to get the lower position too. The response? Over-qualified.

I get it, you cheapskates, I get it. Really, I do.

But, in the name of all that is holy, must you disrupt the lives of innocent applicants who don't know this? Must you put us through the agony of going in for a job interview that we don't have a snowball's chance in you-know-where of getting? Really, MUST YOU?

I'd rather stay home in my sweatpants than take on the anxiety of a job interview when you had no intention of really considering me anyway.

And, now we resume our regularly scheduled programming.

But, I've got another interview scheduled. The job is almost identical to my previous position in a similar type of organization.

It's local too—a thought that makes me sigh with relief.

I'm realistic about moving if it comes to that, but I prefer not to if possible. I've built a life here. My family is here. I'll do whatever I have to do, but as nice as some other parts of the country are, I can't see myself shoveling snow or battening down the hatches for a hurricane.

It's just as well because most recruiters and hiring managers seem interested only in local candidates. I found a wonderful job at a great organization last week. I deployed a unique and creative marketing scheme, and it paid off—the recruiter seemed to love me. But, the position is out-of-state, and the recruiter said the client only wanted local candidates. I understand that, but I would have been perfect for them.

Really.

I would have.

(Mini-rant alert: Could they not have included that in their job post to save me from applying for something I would never even be allowed a shot at?)

But, I've got another interview coming up—a local one, remember?

Interviews can be exciting—for about the first ten minutes after you get off the phone from setting up the appointment.

You'd think nervousness would be the next emotion, but, no. Instead the emotion is gloom that descends faster than a San Francisco fog.

It feels as if the closer the interview date comes, the closer I am to hearing that particularly painful "no" yet again:

"The client has decided to go with an internal candidate."

"We have chosen another candidate who more closely fits our needs."

"We've decided to only interview local candidates".

Or, worse yet, deafening silence.

I want to send out an email that says: "Hello, anybody out there? Is this thing on? Is there a black hole at the end of my internet connection?"

You see, each time, at the end of the interview, I feel like a single woman out on that awkward first date that ends with the dreaded words: "I'll call you."

Still, you smile as you must, give him the number and know in your gut that he will never call.

The exhaustion has been difficult enough, but now panic has emerged.

My last day of insurance coverage is April 30.

At $464 per month, it's been expensive, but manageable with my ever-dwindling savings account.

I called my insurance carrier yesterday for rates on an individual policy.

It's bad.

Really bad.

$1,224-per-month bad.

But, then it got worse:

"Now, remember on this policy, there are no co-pays," the insurance representative chirped happily. "The plan does not cover anything until you meet your $2,500 deductible."

What the heck? You mean, nearly $15,000 per year buys me nothing?

"It's really more of a catastrophic plan," she continued, ever more cheerfully.

Catastrophic is right. It's the policy that's the catastrophe!

She went on to explain that after the deductible is met then the policy will pay a whopping 70% of medical bills.

"It does cover psychiatric care and counseling," she remarked. "If you need that sort of thing."

"I don't need that now, but give me a few months on that premium, and I just might," I quipped.

After 20 years of administering employee benefit plans, doing without coverage is just not an option for me. I know the really scary things that can happen to people without coverage. I have actually known people who died because they could not afford medical care.

And no, before you bring it up, I can't get the new government health coverage either. For the next few years, you have to be totally without coverage for at least six months to be eligible. Even then, the premiums are astronomical and cover almost nothing.

Accordingly, while I was out yesterday, I spoke to the manager of the drugstore down the street about a job and left the store with a job application.

Thereafter, in anticipation of expanding my job search to those offering minimum wage, I re-did my résumé. I can't tell you how much it pained me to remove my hard-earned master's degree, ninety percent of my previous job responsibilities and all of my significant accomplishments. In it, I no longer call myself an "executive". Supervisor or manager is the most I'll admit to now.

It's not that I'm too proud for a minimum-wage job. It's an honest way to make a living. I'm happy to do almost any job. But, what many folks don't seem to understand is that once you accept a job at that level, you're hard pressed to ever move back to your previous job (and salary level) ever again.

For those minimum-wage jobs, you work awfully hard. You stand on your feet. You work overtime to make an extra buck. You come home tired. You have at least 40 fewer hours per week to devote to the search for a job such as the one you previously had.

Plus, the lower the job level, the less scheduling flexibility a worker has. How would I ever get the head cashier to understand that I needed to swap shifts so I could go on a CEO or VP interview? The reality is that I wouldn't.

How would I choose between the "sure thing"—$7.25 per hour with benefits—and the opportunity to get my career back on track?

But, soon none of those concerns will matter anymore. In six weeks time, I'll get a monthly insurance bill that exceeds my entire monthly dole income. At this point, I no longer care about salary any more as long as the job has insurance benefits.

Fatigue.

Gloom.

Panic.

It's really starting to hit me now.

My inner optimist rails against the oppressive weight, but there is a rising, slightly nauseating feeling that's rolling in.

This cannot be the course of my life from now on.

Or is it?

And, despite the overwhelming feeling nipping at my heels, I trudge on. Next week, I'll put on my best suit and go to that interview. I'll smile as though I don't have a care in the world. I'll exude confidence, optimism and professionalism. I'll swallow hard and fight the queasy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

Because I am totally, completely out of options.

But, I WILL get that job. I WILL.

Because I have no other choices. Because this time I have to.

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Just for Fun: This really cheered me up! Remember "Hee-Haw" the classic American TV show from the 1970s? Yeah, it was cheesy but also pretty fun. I watched this show every Saturday night when I was a little girl. Enjoy this clip from the show.

 
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Photo Credits: 
Note: Women pictured are not Ariel.

The Scream: Painting by Edvard Munch, painted 1893 http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:The_Scream.jpg

Depression: http://www.flickr.com/photos/canonsnapper/4241963210/

Worried Woman: http://www.flickr.com/photos/spaceodissey/2580085025/

Woman Yelling at Phone: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pollobarba/5037569606/

Job Application: http://www.flickr.com/photos/gtmcknight/202136435/sizes/z/in/photostream/

Job Interview: http://www.flickr.com/photos/jamelah/3043607815/

 

The Don: I’m Gonna Make You An Offer You Can’t Refuse

The Godfather was on TV this weekend. How have I missed this classic until now?

The irony? It played like my job search. As I watched characters make requests to Don Corleone on his daughter's wedding day, I felt like one of those poor unsuspecting supplicants. Or, worse yet, the object of Godfather's coercive offers.

Case in point: a phone call in response to my résumé. A phone call guaranteed to put your average job seeker on edge, wondering when the dreaded bloody horse-head-on-the-bed is going to appear.

It started with a call to schedule an in-person interview.

Yes, sweet success! Somebody actually thinks I'm qualified to do an important job at a reputable company for an impressive salary.

Well, hold on. Not so fast.

I guess it's an important job. They really didn't say.

I guess it's a reputable company. They really didn't say.

I guess it's an impressive salary. They really didn't say.

This drama unfolded with a blind newspaper ad. You know the kind: "Local company seeks . . ." No company name. No company description. No industry listed. Very few details in the job description. No address—just a PO box.

Holly.

That's all I got from the call. The administrative assistant is named Holly. No, I don't know her last name. No, I'm not sure she's actually the administrative assistant.

Not much info you say?

This is all the solid info I gathered. Everything after Holly's name was vague. All details dried up from that point forward.

Caller: "Hi Ariel, I'm Holly. We received your résumé. I'm calling to schedule an interview with our CEO."

Me: "That sounds great. Which company you are with?"

Holly (hesitantly): "Um, we're a healthcare company. You responded to our newspaper ad."

Nope, doesn't ring a bell. I respond to lots of blind ads.

Alright, maybe I've not yet met my daily caffeine-intake quota for the day. I'm usually more attentive than this. Did she actually say the company name? No, I don't think so.

Me (trying again): "What is your company's name?"

Holly (lowers her voice to a near whisper as if afraid to be overheard): "Uh, it's XYZ Health Partners."

Hmmm . . . I've been in healthcare nearly 13 years, and I've never heard of these guys.

OK, there you have it—the informative part of the conversation. From there it just got weirder.

Holly couldn't talk about the position.

She didn't know the salary.

All she could say was I needed to meet "Don", the CEO, two days hence in a location three hours from my house. Don's phone number was an Alabama area code even though the company was supposedly in Georgia.

A cell phone maybe? They run the business with cell phones? Not usual, but probably not unheard of either.

Hmmm . . .why did she seem afraid to reveal the company name? Even when searches are posted confidentially it's common practice for reputable companies to disclose the company when arranging the interview.

How does one prepare for an interview with nothing to go on?

A quick Google search reveals no XYZ Health Partners at the listed address or any other information. Further investigation shows the location given to me as in a strip of store-front office buildings—with the indicated suite currently being unoccupied. Something is definitely off with this one. I'm also cautious about the abundance of job search scams that seem to lurk around every job board these days. But I'll reserve judgment until I speak with the mysterious Don.

I call the number. Here's how that went down:

Telephone Answering Person at XYZ Healthcare (Receptionist? Holly?): "Hello?"

What's up with that? A business number where they answer with "hello"? Where's the "XYZ Health Partners. How may I help you?" part of the greeting?

My imagination starting to run wild, I wonder: Is it safe to travel to this interview? Will I be coerced into the Family? Will I owe Don a favor if he hires me?

Don? This guy's name is actually Don?

I cannot seem to stop myself from thinking of him as "Godfather Don" at this point.

Holly promises to have Don call me later today.

Again I wonder how to prepare for this interview. How should I start my introduction? Perhaps I should take inspiration from Luca Brasi? Something like, "Don Corleone, I am honored and grateful that you have invited me to your deserted strip mall office suite on the hiring day for your HR position. May all your ventures by profitable ones."

Hearing nothing from Godfather Don by nearly 5 PM the next day, I call his office again.

If they want me for an interview tomorrow, don't they have to tell me when and where they want to meet me? And will I need back-up? To be safe, I should probably take somebody with me. But, wait, everybody I know has a job. Well, except for my mother. (Yeah, that should strike cold fear in the Don's heart: me showing up with a little old lady in tennis shoes.)

Feeling more and more uneasy, I make some calls. People in the industry actually do know "the Don". The consensus: "he's different" but "probably" not dangerous.

This time, Holly explains she can't transfer me and asks me to call Don's cell phone. Several rings later, the infamous Don answers.

Don (sounding annoyed): "Look, I don't have much time. Holly says you have questions. I'll answer some, but can't tell you much because your last job was with our competitor."

Ah, well, now maybe that explains some of the weirdness.

But wait, that competitor RIF-ed my job. Why would I rush to them with Don's corporate secrets?

Nevertheless, I listen carefully as Don's explains the job.

I don't know why they called me for this one. It's not even remotely similar to the job posting. I don't remotely have the skills for this job. Eventually, Don figures it out, too.

"I don't think this sounds like a fit," Don tells me with finality.

With my head still spinning, I wonder what happened and how my hopes for an interview evaporated this quickly. Well, at least, we got to the answer without delay. See, I'm a bit like ol' Don Corleone myself—I am one who "insists on hearing bad news immediately."

The good news is, I'm not "sleeping with the fishes". No horse heads under my sheets this morning either. I'm relieved there was no offer that I couldn't refuse. As I push thoughts of "Godfather Don" from my mind, I focus again on my job search.

These mysterious jobs at mysterious companies with mysterious people are becoming the rule rather than the exception. Actually, I think I'm getting the hang of them. No time to dwell on this one. There are other mysterious job postings at other mysterious companies with yet more mysterious people for which I must submit my résumé.

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Just for Fun: Watch The Godfather Movie Trailer:

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And for More Fun: Check Out:

 

 

 

 

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Photo Credits:

Don Corleone and Cat: <div xmlns:cc="http://creativecommons.org/ns#" about="http://www.flickr.com/photos/beatles/3429398512/"><a rel="cc:attributionURL" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/beatles/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/beatles/</a> / <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">CC BY-SA 2.0</a></div>

Job Less Newspaper Ad:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/khalilshah/ / CC BY-NC 2.0

Luca Brasi: http://godfather.wikia.com/wiki/File:Vlcsnap-2010-02-24-19h32m59s164.png

Don Corleone: http://godfather.wikia.com/wiki/File:Vito_Corleone.jpg

An Offer He Can't Refuse: <div xmlns:cc="http://creativecommons.org/ns#" about="http://www.flickr.com/photos/beatles/3429441886/in/set-72157616496731255/"><a rel="cc:attributionURL" href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/beatles/">http://www.flickr.com/photos/beatles/</a> / <a rel="license" href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0/">CC BY-SA 2.0</a></div>