The Stink Of Desperation
(*Note: It's depressing, but trust me, I'm fine.)
Dear Avid Reader,
I was watching Elizabethtown the other day (good movie, check it out). And during the two-hours traffic, one of the major threads is making the distinction between a fiasco and a failure. Failure is simply the absence of success, but a fiasco, the movie contends, is failure on a much more grand, more epic scale.
If you want a study of a fiasco, please see the movie. But for a description of a failure, sit back relax, and allow me to take you through the phases of a failure in the context of looking for a new job.
Phase I: Blind Optimism
In this phase you are sure of yourself. Confident. You are secure in the fact that you have studied at whatever school that you studied and are absolutely sure you will be able to find a job in a matter of days or weeks. After all you have a Masters degree. You aren't some shmoe with a measly Bachelors, no no, YOU have a Masters. You are twelve feet tall and bullet-proof.
Phase II: Slight Realization
Perhaps you were a bit too cocky. This is the "real world" after all, not a movie and you understand that it might take a little while to find work. But no more that a month. I mean, let's be honest, you have not only a degree, but three years of professional experience. You aren't some shmoe right out of college, you've been in the trenches, slogging it out through real problems. In the "real world".
"It's only a matter of time," you say to yourself. I mean you're going into a interview tomorrow. That's all we needed here, a little break in the action. Soon the offers will be pouring in. You are a nine foot tall Timex watch.
Phase III: Doubt
Maybe there is something going wrong here. It's been a month and a half and all you have was that one interview that you blew up because you were WAY too nervous. It was only after that terrible interview that you realized you were worried the whole time.
You begin to read articles online about "Grad Underemployment" and "College Unemployment". The stories cheer you up in a sad way. You wonder, "How close am I to them?"
Maybe your resume is wrong. Maybe you need to call back that headhunter/employee placement service, even though they want a 1/3 of your first year's income. Maybe you should pay one of these websites the 150 bucks to become a platinum member. Maybe you are just a shmoe. And maybe you should go get a lousy job for the interim, you know, just for now to pay the bills. You are six feet tall and stain resistant.
Phase IV: Full Blown Fear With A Tiny Anger Twist
There is something fundamentally wrong with you or the system of employment in America. It's been several months and you've had a few more interviews but you haven't heard anything in weeks. You are working your lousy job and are looking for signs that the situation is temporary but you can find nothing. This feels permanent. Like a guillotine.
After talking with others, you are sure that your failure is because you have "The Stink of Desperation" on you. You realize that it is a metaphor for mannerisms that everyone naturally has when that are very worried/desperate, but now you wonder. Could you actually smell with the odor of despair? You decide that washing your hands a few extra times a day and brushing your teeth a little more couldn't hurt. And you assure yourself that you aren't going crazy, you are just concerned with proper hygiene. You say that over and over as you spray the deodorant on for the fourth time today.
You wonder why your degree hasn't kicked in. You begin to consider education as simply a way to make money for the university workers with no benefit to the individual directly or society indirectly. You aren't sure, but you feel like a statistic in an online article. You are three feet tall and will visibly scratch if mishandled.
Phase V: Fury And Hyper-Fatalism
The entire universe is a machine that mass produces anguish. You have received letters from your other interviews saying that you haven't gotten the job. You didn't realize it until you got those letters, but the only thing that kept you going with a modicrum of positivity was the hope that you would get those jobs. Now you have nothing.
You are looking online for jobs the first thing in the morning and the last thing before you go to bed. Careerbuilder, Monster, Hotjobs, you have accounts at them all. What's more, you can carry on a very detailed conversation and still apply for jobs. It has become second nature. Like breathing.
You start to consider a manager's position at your lousy job. Perhaps you are simply fated to work here. Maybe you cannot escape your destiny. Maybe you can't get a job, because they can smell you, through the e-mails. You're showering four times a day and your hands are red from the washing, but maybe the stink is deeper that that. It is a stink of your soul and only those fated to have jobs can smell the stink on those fated to have lousy jobs.
At this point you are sure higher education is a racket. It's only benefit to the world is the construction of sturdy buildings. You are less that a foot tall and bruise easily.
Phase VI: Spiraling, End-Over-End Depression
The universe doesn't just mass produce anguish, no, it only mass produces your anguish. You still look online for jobs, but often can be heard muttering, "What's the point?" You are inconsolable. You begin to search your life, to pinpoint where it all went wrong. You decide that your tombstone will read simply "Failure". No name, no date. Or maybe you will have an unmarked grave. Yeah, that way, no one will be able to consider your failure of a life. You are one inch tall, the size of a bullet.
Phase VII And Beyond: ?
I have no idea how long it will take to find a job. But it feels like forever. The worst part is not knowing how long it will take. The seeming endlessness of it. There could be ten phases, a thousand, I don't know and that is what is killing me. But I plug away, I send my resume, and I grit my teeth when ever anyone says, "It will all work out."
But things are looking up. Yesterday, the wife and I went to a Chinese buffet and I got some good news. When I got my fortune cookie (and I LOVE fortune cookies) it said, "The world will soon be ready for your talents."
And as Carl Spackler once said, "So I got that going for me, which is nice."
Dear Avid Reader,
I was watching Elizabethtown the other day (good movie, check it out). And during the two-hours traffic, one of the major threads is making the distinction between a fiasco and a failure. Failure is simply the absence of success, but a fiasco, the movie contends, is failure on a much more grand, more epic scale.
If you want a study of a fiasco, please see the movie. But for a description of a failure, sit back relax, and allow me to take you through the phases of a failure in the context of looking for a new job.
Phase I: Blind Optimism
In this phase you are sure of yourself. Confident. You are secure in the fact that you have studied at whatever school that you studied and are absolutely sure you will be able to find a job in a matter of days or weeks. After all you have a Masters degree. You aren't some shmoe with a measly Bachelors, no no, YOU have a Masters. You are twelve feet tall and bullet-proof.
Phase II: Slight Realization
Perhaps you were a bit too cocky. This is the "real world" after all, not a movie and you understand that it might take a little while to find work. But no more that a month. I mean, let's be honest, you have not only a degree, but three years of professional experience. You aren't some shmoe right out of college, you've been in the trenches, slogging it out through real problems. In the "real world".
"It's only a matter of time," you say to yourself. I mean you're going into a interview tomorrow. That's all we needed here, a little break in the action. Soon the offers will be pouring in. You are a nine foot tall Timex watch.
Phase III: Doubt
Maybe there is something going wrong here. It's been a month and a half and all you have was that one interview that you blew up because you were WAY too nervous. It was only after that terrible interview that you realized you were worried the whole time.
You begin to read articles online about "Grad Underemployment" and "College Unemployment". The stories cheer you up in a sad way. You wonder, "How close am I to them?"
Maybe your resume is wrong. Maybe you need to call back that headhunter/employee placement service, even though they want a 1/3 of your first year's income. Maybe you should pay one of these websites the 150 bucks to become a platinum member. Maybe you are just a shmoe. And maybe you should go get a lousy job for the interim, you know, just for now to pay the bills. You are six feet tall and stain resistant.
Phase IV: Full Blown Fear With A Tiny Anger Twist
There is something fundamentally wrong with you or the system of employment in America. It's been several months and you've had a few more interviews but you haven't heard anything in weeks. You are working your lousy job and are looking for signs that the situation is temporary but you can find nothing. This feels permanent. Like a guillotine.
After talking with others, you are sure that your failure is because you have "The Stink of Desperation" on you. You realize that it is a metaphor for mannerisms that everyone naturally has when that are very worried/desperate, but now you wonder. Could you actually smell with the odor of despair? You decide that washing your hands a few extra times a day and brushing your teeth a little more couldn't hurt. And you assure yourself that you aren't going crazy, you are just concerned with proper hygiene. You say that over and over as you spray the deodorant on for the fourth time today.
You wonder why your degree hasn't kicked in. You begin to consider education as simply a way to make money for the university workers with no benefit to the individual directly or society indirectly. You aren't sure, but you feel like a statistic in an online article. You are three feet tall and will visibly scratch if mishandled.
Phase V: Fury And Hyper-Fatalism
The entire universe is a machine that mass produces anguish. You have received letters from your other interviews saying that you haven't gotten the job. You didn't realize it until you got those letters, but the only thing that kept you going with a modicrum of positivity was the hope that you would get those jobs. Now you have nothing.
You are looking online for jobs the first thing in the morning and the last thing before you go to bed. Careerbuilder, Monster, Hotjobs, you have accounts at them all. What's more, you can carry on a very detailed conversation and still apply for jobs. It has become second nature. Like breathing.
You start to consider a manager's position at your lousy job. Perhaps you are simply fated to work here. Maybe you cannot escape your destiny. Maybe you can't get a job, because they can smell you, through the e-mails. You're showering four times a day and your hands are red from the washing, but maybe the stink is deeper that that. It is a stink of your soul and only those fated to have jobs can smell the stink on those fated to have lousy jobs.
At this point you are sure higher education is a racket. It's only benefit to the world is the construction of sturdy buildings. You are less that a foot tall and bruise easily.
Phase VI: Spiraling, End-Over-End Depression
The universe doesn't just mass produce anguish, no, it only mass produces your anguish. You still look online for jobs, but often can be heard muttering, "What's the point?" You are inconsolable. You begin to search your life, to pinpoint where it all went wrong. You decide that your tombstone will read simply "Failure". No name, no date. Or maybe you will have an unmarked grave. Yeah, that way, no one will be able to consider your failure of a life. You are one inch tall, the size of a bullet.
Phase VII And Beyond: ?
I have no idea how long it will take to find a job. But it feels like forever. The worst part is not knowing how long it will take. The seeming endlessness of it. There could be ten phases, a thousand, I don't know and that is what is killing me. But I plug away, I send my resume, and I grit my teeth when ever anyone says, "It will all work out."
But things are looking up. Yesterday, the wife and I went to a Chinese buffet and I got some good news. When I got my fortune cookie (and I LOVE fortune cookies) it said, "The world will soon be ready for your talents."
And as Carl Spackler once said, "So I got that going for me, which is nice."
The Next Post Promises To Be Better,
James
James
posted by James at 11:28 AM
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