Two Steps Forward, One Step Back

Every day, I check craigslist and the local paper; sometimes I branch out to monster.com and the unemployment agency. I have one private tutoring client, I have an interview tomorrow at a tutoring agency, I attended a training last week for substitute teachers, and Friday I'll attend an orientation for an EMS program. I've applied for a few jobs at local hospitals, one of which allows me to log in and check the status of my application any time I want--I'm trying to cut back from my current 4-5 times a day.

All of this allows me to feel as if I am Doing Something. I can't be accused of allowing opportunities to pass me by, right? I am out there, I am racking up points, I am following every lead, examining every option.

Of course, thousands of other people are doing this, too. The unemployment rate in the city of Detroit is currently 29%. Yes, twenty-nine, as in one percentage point less than 30%. As in, almost one out of every three people is without a job. Nationally, the media informs me, there are 6 unemployed people for every job opening. That doesn't mean there are 6 applicants for every job opening, no no no. That means there are 6 times more unemployed people than there are jobs for them.

And people are downloading their resumes and hitting send to almost any opening, paying little attention to requirements or instructions. People are applying for jobs for which they are underqualified, overqualified, or simply not qualified at all. And why not? It doesn't cost anything. And you never know--maybe you'll slip past, get an interview, and wow them to the point where they overlook that you have neither the experience nor the education they're looking for.

I'm guilty of it, too. I've applied for many more jobs than I would have if I'd had to print out a resume and a cover letter and put them in an envelope and mail it. Social work jobs I'm applying for want applicants who are licensed, which I am not; I don't even know if I could get licensed because I haven't been an actual social worker in many years. Meanwhile, I have been a teacher for a long time, but don't apply for those jobs because I am not certified, and getting certified would take two years and thousands of dollars. Gotta love those hoops created by No Child Left Behind.

Meanwhile, I'm reading Po Bronson's What Should I Do With My Life? and Flow, wondering if I'm somehow spending too much time doing and not enough time being. Am I avoiding something? What would happen if I simply cooked, cleaned, folded laundry, organized for a while, and didn't even look for a job? Is a person's worth really what he or she does for a living, or is it more than that? And if it is more than that, as I suspect it is, what is it and what does it look like and how do we express it or describe it? And do we need to? I've heard that the question one gets asked when meeting someone new, "What do you do?", is purely American, that in other countries and other cultures, no one thinks to ask that question, let alone have it be an ice breaker.

I don't know what this all means. Someone I trust completely told me she thinks I will get a job when my house is in order. (No, this trusted person is not my mother.) So why am I not spending every waking moment doing just that? Ah, that's the real question, I guess.

Smorgasbord

I am looking for work, and I feel like I am a starving person at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I'm having trouble narrowing down the options, of limiting myself to any particular area. I took those personality and career tests, was disappointed to learn that I've been successfully pigeon-holed as a caregiver/educator/soother-type, and since then have been wandering into the dangerous territories of veterinary assistant and EMT.

I can't help feeling like I didn't "do it right" way back when, just out of college. I took pretty safe paths--nothing too risky. (Well, it felt risky moving from the East Coast to Birmingham, Alabama, where I didn't know a soul--had never even been, except for my first interview. But it wasn't really occupationally risky.) I never really branched out. My dad was an English teacher, I majored in English, didn't know what to do when it was time to make weekly visits to my college's career center, so registered with a couple of teacher-placement agencies. Felt relief when I was offered a job (actually, two jobs--I had to make a choice).

Meanwhile, one of my closest friends went to law school and is now a partner in an immigration law firm in California. Another close friend got her PhD in marine biology and after doing most of her research on Catalina Island, is now a full professor at the University of Florida. My high school boyfriend who was always more passionate about his guitar than he ever was about me now spends his life writing and playing music and making a living at it. One of my brief high school flings is head of anesthesiology at the University of Chicago hospitals. My best friend in junior high is a respected, successful Hollywood writer and director (ever seen Family Stone?...)

So I'm left wondering if my dreams passed me by--or, more likely and more to the point, did I pass them by? I've mellowed somewhat. I recognize what motherhood and having a happy family mean to me, and I would absolutely choose them over winning the Nobel Prize in literature or being the recipient of an Oscar for screenwriting or inventing a vaccine for AIDS. If what matters to me is shaping the future, having an impact on the world after I'm gone, I know that's precisely what I'm doing by being the best mother I know how to be.

And while I'm doing that, I will continue to keep my options open, I won't try to limit myself to teaching or social working or caregiving. But I will also try to be realistic. I will try not to over-romanticize things like helping defenseless animals or rushing to the scene of an accident in the back of a speeding ambulance. And there may even be days when I allow myself to live in the here and now and not place myself in some future. I'll work on that tomorrow.

Hurry Up and Wait

Things seem to be moving more slowly than they did when I was employed. Perhaps that is not a shocking observation. And maybe it's even a good thing. Maybe I will learn to be more patient, to be less hurried and frantic. Perhaps I will learn to breathe more deeply, be more appreciative, focus more intently on the here and now.

What I'd really like to do right now is take a nap. I am tired, the house is quiet, I refuse to let myself watch TV, and I don't have any deadlines that need meeting right now. I've already tried calling my best friend to see if she can chat, but had to leave a message. I am dressed, I ran some errands, and now I want to sleep.

But I won't. One day, I will be back at work, and if I spent my time while unemployed napping, I will regret it. I will berate myself for it. I will be harried one day, wish I had more time, and I will think, How in God's name did I allow myself to nap when I could have been reading/writing/cleaning out the basement/preparing meals for the coming week/color-coordinating every closet in the house/becoming the next Martha Stewart/jogging/tearing up the pee-covered carpet/repairing rain gutters/finding a bale of hay for my child to use with his new bow-and-arrow/learning how to sew/solving the mystery of why the refrigerator smells rancid/wiping down the ceiling fans so my older son can't write obscene messages in the dust? How could I have slept when there were so many other valuable ways to use my time?

It's hard when waiting seems to be the most active part of each day. I wait for the phone to ring or an email to arrive, notifying me that I have been granted an interview, or have even been scheduled for some volunteer work. After all, it has been three weeks since I notified two places of my interest in volunteer opportunities, and neither one has contacted me personally yet (I have received automated email messages from both places).

I wait to hear how my husband's day was, how my boys are doing at school. I wait to let the dogs outside, and then to let them in again. I wait for the mail to arrive. I wait for the clothes to be ready to be put in the dryer, then I wait until they're dry and can be folded and put away.

Mostly I wait to see if I'm going to be motivated or inspired to do anything today. Is this the day I will pack up bags and boxes for the Salvation Army? Is this the day I will write really, really compelling cover letters to accompany my resume for a variety of jobs ranging from being a family therapist to being a veterinary assistant to writing articles for an online poker company? Is this the day I will fix the two-sided bird feeder so that each side can attract a different type of bird in order to fulfill my cat's entertainment needs? Is this the day I will start my Wii Fit and EA Sports Active programs over from the beginning?

I don't know. Could be. I'll let you know after I wake up.