I won't bore you with another "it's tough out there" rant, although I can't promise I won't bore you with it some other time. Lately, however, I've been on the hunt for a day job and it's been brutal. What's particularly depressing is that many jobs that fall under the category of "I can always get one of those when I'm desperate" are turning me down. Call center stuff, production work, customer care, all things that I've done plenty of times before in plenty of other places now don't find me qualified.
Bad economy. I'm old. I'm over / under qualified. Doesn't really matter anymore. The reasons are all just topics for discussion while the bills keep piling up. I can be somewhat charming in person, but the whole begging for more time routine is wearing thin with my landlord. Oh well. The only reason I bring it up is because today marks the start of training for a great job I thought I had LOCKED UP. Testing went well. The interview was awesome. I'm ideally located. My history is pretty good. But...nope. Very disheartening.
This topic, while not very cheerful or inspiring, seems appropriate today since it's Vincent van Gogh's birthday. Unappreciated in his time, poor and depressed. Hmmm. Seems vaguely familiar. Not that I think for a moment that my books will ever rise to the level of his paintings, but at least I can relate to the poor and depressed artist thing.
Wah-wahhhhhhh.
I promise to get back to the funnier stuff tomorrow.
