Happy 2020! It’s my Rat Year, finally! It seems like it was just 2007 (the last Year of the Rat, duh) and I was all geared up for amazingness. In retrospect, 2007 wasn’t bad. I got my first good job and was able to travel to Mexico City, Beijing, and Shanghai. If you’re 35 or 59 (or 10, 22 or 71, 83 obviously) this is also your Rat Year! I can’t think about being equidistant to 35 and 59, though, because it seems kind of impossible. Talk to me in twelve years when I’m looking back at 47 with fondness.
Speaking of, apparently the most miserable age is 47.2? Thank god, I’m roughly 47.4 (I don’t know because I’m so bad at math—I’ve even considered reading up on the much-maligned common core math, so that I might understand basic concepts better) and that’s all behind me.
I think I might be offered a job today, and because I don’t believe in jinxes, feel fine saying that out loud. Also, it’s not super high stakes. The company seems fine, it’s a role I’m qualified for, and will likely pay ok but probably not amazingly. (Benefits, unknown. At what point are these topics supposed to be discussed in detail?) I’ve been jobless almost exactly two months, which isn’t that long in the scheme of things. I haven’t been worried. In fact, I wouldn’t mind another two months off. For what? I don’t know. To pitch food and travel pieces that get no response or polish personal essays that get rejected within 48 hours?
I’m certainly not using my free time as constructively as I thought I would. I’m not going to the gym, walking around the neighborhood, or even using the treadmill that I own. I have nearly read two books already this year, however: 95% of Conversations With Friends (a breezy read I enjoyed more than I had anticipated) and 85% of How To Do Nothing (which was almost a bit too intellectual for me) before the library ebooks expired. Now I have to put holds on both of them again and am #82 in line on 31 copies of the Sally Rooney novel and #262 on 42 copies of the non-fiction book (!). I only managed like 20 pages of Fleishman Is In Trouble and considered seeing what all the adoration for Trick Mirror was about, but nah.
I’ve also signed up for a leatherworking class because I need to jump-start my dining chairs reupholstery project that I’ve deluded myself into thinking I can tackle. Though I think Japanese might be more interesting, I’ve also been considering taking Spanish lessons again. I mean, I did weekly group lessons for like five years in Brooklyn, plus a one-week private intensive in Oaxaca, but I can’t speak Spanish for shit. It’s embarrassing.
I say I might be offered a job because I’ve lost all sense of what’s normal. The last time I thought I had a job in the bag, after a series of interviews and a writing test at a global consulting firm, I did not (but did make final three). The other time I thought a job was a sure bet was also after many rounds of interviews and a writing test at a highly valued Bay Area startup. I got an email from the recruiting assistant saying the hiring manager wanted another call to discuss my test. Ok. What? I assumed we were reaching the end of the process, but instead was surprised with an impromptu second test where I was read a one-page description about a new product and had to articulate how I would write a blog post about it on the spot and come up with a headline. That’s not the way my brain works (I need to read words for myself, not hear them verbally) and wasn’t even representative of the type of task I would be doing at this job. I also might’ve taken an (high-CBD, to be fair) edible before the call. Shockingly, that professional courtship went no further.
The thing is, on Glassdoor or Blind, there are literally hundreds of software engineers posting about their hiring experience—often through recruiters—and salaries (fuck off with your $350k) so everyone knows what they are getting into but for marketing-adjacent roles you apply to cold, it’s a void. I’m not even going to get into the concept of “culture fit.” I’m a rat, dammit!
So, I’ve learned that a follow-up call after multiple interviews (one even a video call—which I wasn’t expecting—at 9pm, in Bangkok after I had sweated heavily and drank moderately at an outdoor market) and a test could mean anything, not necessarily good news.
Yes, on vacation I did a few interviews, kept writing cover levers and applying for jobs I don’t really want, and even wrote a B2B advertising report, yet when I got back home there was a letter from the Oregon Employment office waiting for me, saying I was denied unemployment benefits because I had filed a weekly claim from Singapore i.e. I was not available that week to take a job in Portland. Never mind, that I’ve almost exclusively been applying for remote gigs because they local job market is abysmal. The job I’m speculating about happens to be based in Miami. I do think there is a story in there about social services not keeping up with the gig economy. But even though it seems like I’m always going on about work-related matters, I’m not super interested in writing about work-related matters, so…
P.S. The Year of the Rat doesn’t officially start until January 25, so my fellow 1972ers still have 12 days to waste before new year brilliance kicks in.
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