UPDATE AUGUST 10, 2013 The next phase of my life has started in earnest. I must find a job. Although many have suggested that a writing career is in my future, my present is what greets me every morning and time and my obligations won’t wait for me to cultivate a talent for which I have no formal training or employment history. The expressions drafted over the past months cannot pass for job experience just as making a mean Tuna Casserole does not qualify someone to be a Master Chef. In just the first demoralizing week of my adventure I have come to the conclusion that looking for a job is like shopping for clothes. It is - at first - unbelievable that there exists a vast and colorful wardrobe of employment options awaiting my perusal. The brightly colored and silky job descriptions drape in perfect symmetry from golden hangers of opportunity. The fabulous array of accoutrement is hip and trendy just like the person that I think I am. From a distance they all look magnificently tailor-made and perfectly coordinated with my own personal style and talents. All seem to hold the promise of a new purpose and a new destiny but upon closer examination with a truthful eye, it becomes painfully clear that they are cut for a younger, smaller frame whose experience far exceeds what I have to offer. As I hastily shuttle the hangers down the rack immediately dismissing each item as too big, too small, too plain or too flowery, I find myself left with brown plaid bell-bottoms and a prize-winning Bedazzled sweater vest - neither of which really fit. Every job description seems to be weighted with a required knowledge of cleverly misspelled or acronymic software that I’m sure anyone under the age of 30 is well acquainted with. I am confronted with the fact that I’m not as computer savvy as I would like to think. Necessary certifications and accreditations are absent from my portfolio and enough experience in any one career is lacking. I am stymied by my lack of foresight to have planned better for an adaptable career that will take me to retirement. There are very few jobs for an aging archaeologist who can hang drywall, fabricate scenery, wordsmith and perform stand-up. Being a jack of all trades and master of none has lost its appeal. My registrations with different career search engines have produced a few emails pointing me in the direction laid out by my resume and job experience. Upon opening every message with the subject line of “We’ve Found a Job for You” I am struck down by how my resume is seemingly interpreted by someone who already has a job. My life experience apparently qualifies me to be a Gymnastics Instructor, a Manure Wagon Attendant, a Tow Boat Cook, or a Lice Technician. If the dress code for any of these positions includes brown plaid bell-bottoms then my search is over. ~ Kelly Linn
Posted on: Fri, 09 Aug 2013 23:19:11 +0000
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