Let me begin by saying, I do not have permanent employment. I am at the same temp job I wrote about with the yummy soap. Apparently I confused people, but I had a story . . . .
Guess what? I got a job! There’s one small catch, though. It hasn’t started yet. I got this job on my very first interview, probably two weeks after I lost my job with Boss. I took the drug test and signed my rights over for a background check. And then I waited. Waited, waited, waited. I eventually came to the conclusion that this job would not happen, mostly because they said, “It won’t happen.” I peed in a cup (among other places – why is it so freaking hard for women to do that?) for nothing. I did learn a lesson, though. Talk is cheap. Words mean nothing and until your butt is parked in a permanent chair and business cards have been ordered, don’t believe a word anyone says.
This lesson also applies to the company who says, “We will be making a decision in two weeks. We have to move quickly on this.” Yeah, right. I’ve been waiting five weeks and despite my friendly phone calls, have received not even a fare thee well, not a no nor a yes. (Also, it should be noted that this applies to the temp job that was supposed to only last four days, although in this case I’m very thankful. I’ve been there over a month now. Every week we have the same conversation – “Can you come in next week as well? Yes? Good. See you Monday.” What a Godsend.)
Want to know some other lessons I’ve learned?
Not everyone gets my fabulousness. I know, it’s shocking. I can’t believe it either. Probably it doesn’t help that I inflate my ego every time I write a cover letter for a position (which I have done more than 60 times now) to submit with my resume. I get all big-headed talking about what an asset I will be to XYZ Company, but when XYZ Company rejects me after I’ve spent seven hours of my time interviewing with them, taking four proficiency tests (in which I did very well), taking two email tests (again, did very well), critiquing my own cover letter and thank you note (fantastic, once again) and being assured that I was the strongest candidate (by two different people), I get knocked down a peg or two.
Another lesson from that one? I am not particularly fond of rejection, no matter how nicely worded it is. I reckon I needed a comeuppance. I sure got it. No worries about my carrying around a big-ass balloon for a head. Crushing.
Something else I’ve learned is that taking the Microsoft Office Suite proficiency tests over and over again will increase your scores. I’ve taken them three times already. I would have taken them five times except two staffing agencies just “simply forgot” to send them to me. They “simply forgot” three times – I’m not entirely sure how that happens, particularly when they say to me as we are on the phone that they are “sending them as we speak, right this very minute!” Anyway, I’m quite good at the test-taking and apparently I can type like mad, although I thought the days of having to prove it were long behind me.
A final lesson, and this one is very important. Yesterday, I visited with another staffing agency. Again, I took all the tests, had high scores on all of them, got glowing reviews of my resume over the phone with my agent, and made the appointment to meet in person. We discussed my qualifications and my goals for new work and then had the following conversation:
Agent: “So, a question. Do you normally dress like that?” she asked as she waved her hand in the general direction of the very nice dress I had worn.
Jimmie: “Yes. Is it not alright?”
Agent: “Well, you did work for the same man for a long time so I assume you just got comfortable in your wardrobe? We will need to dress you for interviews.”
Jimmie: “Sure, okay. Not a problem for me to wear a black suit.”
Agent: “Do you have pearls?”
Jimmie: “No.”
Agent: “We really prefer pearls.” <big sigh> “I suppose the necklace you have on is fine.”
Jimmie: <silence> <Okay, the silence is only on the outside. Inside I’m screaming WTF and wondering what the h-e-double-hockey-sticks is wrong with my very tasteful necklace that I bought at Tiffany as a present to myself when I reached a weight loss goal. I had no idea that my being an ex-sorority girl was only helpful if I had pearls to go with that title. But, whatever.>
Agent: “Does your hair always look like that?” she asked, again with the hand wave in a circular motion near my head.
Jimmie: “No, not always. Why?”
Agent: “It’s too sexy.”
I repeat: My hair is too sexy. I wheezed with mirth until I realized that she was serious. And with that, I think it’s best if I just stop right there and not mention anything else she said about my sexy, sexy hair. There was more, honestly. But I will say this: I thought the 40s were supposed to be my sexy years, not the 39s. I was aghast as I hadn’t even touched my hair with a backcomb nor had I fluffed it unnecessarily. I think in some way I was strangely thrilled that someone found my hair too sexy but I’m not sure how I can equate that with something positive just yet.
I do take some comfort that she found my makeup “acceptable.”
Lesson learned from that experience: Jimmie is too sexy for work! Who knew? I sure didn’t, although this would have been helpful to know ages ago. It would explain an awful lot.
I will leave you with one final lesson, really more a plea for someone out there. Someone really, really needs to invent a method for women to successfully pee in a cup. I won’t go into the details about how your hand gets more liquid than the cup and how disgusting that is, but I can pretty much assure you that if you succeed in this endeavor, you will be an instant billionaire. And when you have your celebratory big-ass party, I will bring my big sexy-ass hair to celebrate with you. Because we could all use a little more sexy.
Love, Jimmie 