February 19, 2009

Surviving the Dystopian Times


There's a huge difference between a job and a career. A job pays the bills. A career is (hopefully) your life's work in which you're successful. I'm going share something with everyone. Right now, either one will do. It's no secret that This Bug has been hit hard by these economic times. I managed to survive two rounds of downsizing at an international firm before my number was up. Where the hell was my bailout? I went from being a Woman of Leisure back in 2008 to Hustle Woman of 2009. I won't front. I lost my job in Human Resources some months back and viewed it as a blessing in disguise. It gave me time to travel, spend quality time with my family and an open space to get my writing going. Needless to say, I was not going hard with the jobhunt when every other day consisted of going to the beach and chillaxin'. I had a good amount of savings as a foundation to still live independently. I am woman enough to admit that I foolishly rested on my laurels.

Then reality started to sink in. I began harassing my ING agent. I started going over bank statements with an eagle eye. I even bought America's Choice brand Grated Parmesan cheese. Now, if you know what a foodie This Bug is- you'd know that is something that would only occur during catastrophic economic times. Oh yes, I splurge on the finest recipe ingredients (and the occasional shoe) when the paper is stacked. But it hasn't been stacked for some time. At first I was only singling out jobs that were in line with my writing career. The way I saw it- if I annoyed enough publishing companies and magazines, someone would eventually just give me a job so I would leave them alone. No such thing happened.

So I'm back to square one. In about 12 hours I will be interviewing with someone in the medical field- something I never thought would happen. It's not that I have anything against it, I just didn't see it in the cards for me. It was between that or the local Car Wash- they need an Armor All® girl...Kidding! Hopefully it goes well. Either way, I am not my profession. At this point, the dream job may have to take a backseat while the bill paying gig takes the wheel. That doesn't mean that I've lost hope. Nor does it mean that this blog will suffer my absence once I am gainfully employed. Now... be vewwy, vewwy quiet. I'm hunting pantyhose. No seriously. I'm sitting here writing this and have no idea if I have so much as a thigh-high for tomorrow. Gotta run. (Let's hope there's none in the stockings.) Wish me luck!



Photo Courtesy: Corbis

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