dith.er

I don't know which way to go. Any advice?

Posts Tagged ‘Worry

Lost: Knack

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Only two and a half years ago, I was at a job that I hated. Every morning was like waking up to the worst day of my life. I was queasy all the time; it was strange not to go a day without crying. It was like a bad Lifetime movie, only it didn’t end after two hours. It just kept going.

The self-pity was thick enough to spread. It was ugly.

But somehow, in the midst of all that, I was able to apply to grad school and start a blog (not this one). I wrote all the time — I wrote my blog at work (heh), and I scribbled in a notebook the rest of the time. And when a genuine writing job came along, I applied and got it.

I wish this is where the story ended. I wish that I could say, “See! See what happens when you follow your dreams and take a leap of faith!”

Unfortunately, life, which we know is no Lifetime movie, had other plans for me. Fine.

Here’s what I’m pissed about: I’ve lost my ability to write with abandon. I’ve lost my passion for blogging. I’ve lost my knack.

What I haven’t lost is the desire to write.

I think of it as — excuse the dramatic metaphor, but I’m in a mood — having a phantom limb. Even though the genuine article is gone, I can still remember what it feels like. In fact, the memory is so clear, sometimes I still try to use it, only to realize, for the 100th time, that it’s gone.

I’m tired of waiting for it to grow back. It’s time to learn how to stand on one leg.

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Written by ditheringmiss

August 18, 2010 at 11:05 am

Posted in Writing

Tagged with , ,

Why I Loathe Phone Interviews, II

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I’ve written before about how much I detest phone interviews, and after just bombing one, I am more certain than ever that they should be banned, along with unpaid internships, dogs in strollers and spandex as pants. The phone interview is a guaranteed bust if the interviewer is on speaker phone, monotone or all business. I can’t work with these things. Can anyone?

It’s extremely difficult to insert your personality into a phone conversation with a person you’ve never met unless said person is warm and willing to actually have a conversation with you.  If this is the case, I can talk for hours, in articulate, well-formed sentences without looking at my cheat sheet. But usually, the interviewer is simply there to ask you, in a series of mundane questions, to repeat the resumé she has in front of her back to her. But you already know my work history?! Can’t you ask me what I could do to make your website more user-friendly? Or what I’ve accomplished in previous roles?

Also: The-what-makes-you-want-to-work-for-unspecified-company-question makes me want to poke wooden skewers through my eyeballs. Why do they even bother asking?

These days the answer is always the same: Frankly, I’m not sure I want to work for you, but I need a job! You may have noted the giant gap on my resume that coincided rather perfectly with ’08’s economic collapse. Do I need to spell this out for you? I’m desperate. Beggars can’t be choosers, so let’s not pretend that the reason I chose to apply to your business is even relevant.  PS: Regardless of whether I want to work for you or not, I will do a damn good job, because that’s what I do, which you would know if you took the time to a. ask me more intelligent questions, b. met me in person, or c. (and this is a wild thought, I know) asked for my references and then actually called them.

Imagine if all the capable, intelligent, hard-working unemployed were hired tomorrow based, not on phone interviews or resumes or cover letters or even an in-person interview, but actual dialogs, multiple conversations and reference checks.  Actually don’t bother; you’re brain might explode.

Written by ditheringmiss

February 10, 2010 at 12:38 pm

Summer Cold

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There’s something about having a cold in the middle of August that is so completely offensive. I wanna be like, “Oh no you di’int world.” Along with a few finger snaps for good measure.

But the cold is really my own doing.

Do you ever feel like you bring on your illnesses? I”m sure I do.

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I woke, the Saturday before last, to an achy throat. It wasn’t quite a sore throat, but I had the sensation I’d been screaming for hours. It felt rubbed raw. The problem was, I may have been screaming for hours, in the bar the night before. I brushed it off as this, the result of a too late night involving too much alcohol.

The next day it was not quite right, but also very near better. And then it was gone.

On Wednesday night things were going swimmingly, until my mom called to tell me that the dog was sick. Not near death, just sick. I felt like the wind got knocked out of me. I felt something dark settle around the edges. I felt unwell and like there was nothing I could do about it. I knew it.

The next morning, Thursday, my throat was doomed. I could tell by the bitter taste in my mouth; the lining stung when I swallowed. So I was sick. I’d let it catch up to me. The problem was, the bad feeling, it wasn’t gone. I tried to shake it up by going up to the lake as planned.

But it lingered. So I knew things would get worse. And they did. For me, and the dog.

I am not so superstitious and ridiculous to believe that if I could have pushed away the dark cloud, I could have saved Kitty or even my throat. But I have a knack for catching a host of bad vibes. I can even recognize it now, like I did on Wednesday night.

It means: nothing good is about to happen.

But eventually the anxious weight in my chest lifts. It always passes.

In the meantime, I have an excuse to sit on the couch and read and look dreamy and nap and drink honey tea. The weather is cooperating: grey and dreary. There’s not much worse than staring out your window at a beautiful sunny day when you’re not up to enjoying it.

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Written by ditheringmiss

August 17, 2009 at 6:17 pm