So today’s a very very scary day. (Well, not TODAY. I wrote this earlier in the week. Today’s just fine, you guys.) I’m starting to write this on my way out the door; by the time I get home, I should have the rest of the story so I can finish it. How the story ends? No idea. I have the highest hopes, but it could go either way at this point.
So my part-time job, about a month or so ago (maybe even two months?) offered me full-time hours doing more administrative work and less phone-answering. There would be benefits and a pay raise, and as much overtime as I wanted. That’s better than what I’m doing now, so I told them yes. We haven’t sat down and hashed out the details yet, but that’s on the table.
At the same time, I interviewed for, and was offered, another job at another call center. It paid a little more, but the drawbacks were kind of high. Far away from home, weird late-night hours and that would be my regular shift, and the bathroom break situation. What, Amy? I can hear you now. What bathroom break situation? Well, you got a lunch break; you could go to the bathroom then. And, per the interviewer, “if you REALLY can’t hold it until the end of your shift, we can give you another break at some point in the day. SIGH.” I looked at the other people I’d walked by on my way into the job; they were warning me away with their eyes. DO NOT ACCEPT A JOB AT THE PLACE THAT WON’T ALLOW YOU TO PEE WHEN YOU NEED TO, AMY, they were saying. (I’m not saying I need to pee a lot. I’m actually like a camel in that regard. But I don’t like being told I CAN’T. I’m very stubborn that way, and so is my bladder. If I was told I couldn’t, I just know my bladder would be all, “WE HAVE TO GO NOW!” out of spite like every five minutes.)
So when they called to offer me that job, I white-lied and made up a reason I couldn’t take it. I felt a little bad, but it seemed better than saying “Um. I’d need to be able to pee whenever I wanted to. Sorry, ya’ll.” Also, I’d be working through my evening television for the rest of ever, and with weird backward hours like that I’d always feel turned on my head. And my career would be answering phones. I don’t mind it in the short-term, but in the long-term I don’t think I could do that.
When I first…um…parted ways with my job, back in July, friend A. said, “I’ll keep an eye out at my company; we’re always hiring.” A lot of people said the same thing, so I didn’t think he meant anything by it other than “I’m being nice, poor Amy.” (Friend A. IS very nice. Also very sarcastic and funny. I like Friend A. very much.) But last month, he emailed me all “My company’s hiring. Quick, send in a resume and cover letter. And, heads up, one of the positions is in my department.”
Friend A.’s department is three people: him and two other theater people I’ve worked on shows with before. I know the whole department. They’re ALL THEATER PEOPLE. It’s not an arts organization, which is what’s funny – I won’t go into much detail, but it’s a financial institution of some sort, that’s all you get – but I know them. All three of them.
(SIDE NOTE: I’m not blogging about this job. I mean, maybe slightly in the abstract, but that’s IT. I’ve learned my lesson, my little cheese curds.)
So I sent in the resume and the cover letter. I didn’t think I had the qualifications needed to work in Friend A.’s department (boo) but there was a clerical job open in another department, so I applied for that one. I didn’t hear anything so I thought, eh, I send in a lot of resumes, whatever.
Then I got a call from HR to come in and interview for it. MOST EXCITING CALL EVER. And not only to interview there, but for the job in Friend A.’s department. It never hurts to know people, apparently. (I have NEVER been a person who knows people. THIS IS EXCITING.)
So right before Hurricane Sandy, end of last month, I went in and interviewed for the position. I met with HR and Friend N. and the interview went (I thought) pretty well. I was nervous as a cat but I tried to be very very well-behaved and calm and I kind of sat on my hands as I do when I’m nervous, otherwise they flap like I’m a crazyperson.
Then I didn’t hear anything else for weeks so I was all, well, I’m out. (I’m a little but of a defeatist, as you can tell. Also, I’ve been job-hunting for 4 months so I’m not optimistic. And I’ve been working crazy hours at work so I don’t have time to be merry sunshine.)
Friend A. reassured me they work slowly over there and he thought all was still going well but I don’t count chickens.
THEN, last week, I got a call to come in and meet with Friend N.’s boss, who is even MORE fancy. WHOA. That was a good sign! And made me even MORE nervous. So I went in last week and did that. He was nice, but also very very serious. Again, I think it went well. I said a couple of things I wished I could take back but only a couple is actually pretty good for the girl who lives with her foot in her mouth.
He told me it’d be one to two weeks before a decision was made. So, more waiting.
Yesterday at work, I went out on break and had a call to call HR; they’d like to discuss the position with me. I called immediately but by the time I’d gotten the message, it was very late in the day so she’d probably already gone home. I left her a message to call me at work today. IT HAD ONLY BEEN FIVE DAYS. That’s substantially less than one to two weeks.
So, that’s where we stand.
Mom thinks she’s calling to tell me I didn’t get it. “We do that all the TIME at work,” she said. “We call people to tell them sorry, no thanks. That’s what places do.”
“WHY WOULD YOU TELL ME THAT, MOM?” I said. “You are the worst. You’re supposed to say ‘oh, that’s GOOD news!”
“Sorry, just being honest,” she said.
My mom is not the cheeriest. If she were a cheerleader she’d be all “rah rah sis boom bah don’t break your phalanges” and the team would be too depressed to leave the bench.
Dad was all “I WILL LIGHT A CANDLE I WILL LIGHT ALL THE CANDLES!!!” Dad’s not optimistic, either, not about anything, but he, like me, is SECRETLY optimistic. He hides it like I do. We’ll pretend we’re all “nah, it’ll never happen” but in our hearts we’re all “MINE MINE MINE!!!!” Then when it doesn’t happen we’re crushed like discarded red plastic cups but we soldier on.
I think this is probably good. I mean, wouldn’t they send a letter if it was bad news? Or wouldn’t they have just left a message saying “Thank you for interviewing, we’ve decided to go in another direction” in order not to get my hopes up?
I’m not counting chickens. I AM NOT COUNTING CHICKENS.
The job pays more than anything I’ve ever done. It’s close to home; it’s in a beautiful building; I know (and like) the department; the benefits are amazing; they treat their employees well; the hours are great; they appreciate personality and – AND – they allow you to be a HUMAN. No more having to be a drone. Oh, how much would I like that? I’ve gotten really used to being able to laugh at my current job. I’m not saying I’m going to be all “HA HA HA!” all day at my new job if I get it…but having the OPTION to laugh, and not be SCOLDED in a CONFERENCE ROOM for it (thanks, old job) is a nice thought, right?
It’s what I need. I could get back on track. I could have time to both read AND blog AND talk to my people AND do my theater and my reviewing AND make a living. I’d get vacation time – and have a little extra money to maybe DO something on vacation.
I want this. I want this so badly I couldn’t sleep last night, thinking about it.
It might just be a courtesy “you didn’t get it, sorry” call, and if it is, I’m going to edit the hell out of this before I post it, or maybe not post it at all, because it’ll be like you can see my heart break all over the page and who wants to see that…but oh. Oh, I want it. I want it so, so badly. I want to work with Friend A. daily and I want to be happy at work and I want to do a good job for them and I want to do something other than answering phones all day long and I want to feel like I matter again.
Off to work. This is a big one. Everything I have is crossed and crossed again.
I got the job.
I GOT THE JOB YOU GUYS.
I start in a week and a half. HR called me at work this morning. She didn’t even beat around the bush. “Hi, Amy, we’re calling to offer you…” and I was all “OMG THANK YOU!!!” like a huge goofy dork. But she just laughed. I think I won them over. I also said, “My mom was SURE you were calling to tell me ‘thanks but no thanks'” and she was HORRIFIED. “We don’t do that!” she said. “We send LETTERS for that! WHO WOULD DO SOMETHING LIKE THAT?” Hee!
I was thinking and thinking and worrying ALL NIGHT AND ALL MORNING about this. I was like, “Amy. Stop WORRYING. The decision’s been made. It’s like you’re worrying about Schrödinger’s cat. That cat has already died or is alive and you worrying is not going to make it MORE dead or MORE alive. STOP WORRYING ABOUT THE CAT IN THE BOX.”
Then I realized that my whole life, I’ve pretty much spent it worrying about the cat that is already either alive or dead in the box, and that made me SO SAD.
This was kind of irrelevant to the story. ANYWAY.
I’m so excited I can’t even.
Listen, I know I mentioned it yesterday? But please let me reiterate: no longer working at my last job is the best thing that’s happened to me this year. Was it scary? Sure it was. SO scary. But sometimes you need something scary to kick you in the ass and get you into something better.
I am so, so excited about this opportunity. And guess what? YOU ARE ALL COMING WITH ME.
(Although we’re not talking about my job, really. ONLY IN THE ABSTRACT. I’m not losing this one, kiddos. I want to work here a good long time.)
Listen, let me extend yesterday’s squishy a little longer: thank you so much for sticking with me over the last four months. I know. They haven’t always been the most cheerful. But you’ve made them bearable. And thank you so much for that. I love you to bits.
Onward and upward, my most beloved minions. A week and a half more full-time at the part-time job, then it’s onto the next adventure.
I’m going to bon vivant the HELL out of this.
Oh, hey, look at all these chickens! One. Two. Three. Four. I WILL COUNT THESE CHICKENS SO HARD.