Jobs, Uncertainty, and My Grandpa's Seattle Adventure
Today was the day the grant for my fantabulous temporary job ran out, and hence it was my last day at work. (I've got a few on-call shifts in the next month, but that's different) I spent the morning finishing up and distributing my big final report (with real Excel charts and graphs; a first for me!), walked my sort-of boss through all the craft supplies I bought, gave out candy and cards to everyone, and left early to pick up the Mermaid Girl from school.
I didn't get that job for which I took a cab to interview a few weeks ago, though I did get on the on-call list for the (large, prestigious) library system that posted the job. I had another interview after that for another job at another system that I found out today I also didn't get. I'm waiting to hear about a third job at yet another library system; they won't even be interviewing for that one for another couple of weeks, so I'm not holding my breath.
So I guess I'm sort of freaking out. This is the first time in ten years or so that I haven't had a solid regular job prospect right in front of me. (Well, the first time since last summer. So, the second time in ten years.)
On the other hand, I think I'll get something sometime if I can just hang in there. After all, I keep getting interviews, so eventually I'm bound to interview better than the other two or three final prospects and get the job. Right? Uh, right??
Also, not to jinx things (ptui, ptui, ptui,) but in general my family has a tendency to land on its feet, work-wise. I was reminded of that this evening when I had occasion to remember this
story about my grandfather:
My father's father came to the United States the long way around: he escaped from the czar's army via Siberia, then to China, and then took a boat to Seattle, where Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) workers helped him out by giving him money so that he could take a train to New York, where he had relatives. My grandpa decided that instead of taking the train, he'd use the money to stake himself to some time in Seattle; later, he told my dad he'd heard there was lots of opportunity there.
Well, opportunity there may have been, but I guess he didn't catch any of it, and after a few weeks he was back at the HIAS office, broke, and asking once again for train fare to New York. This time the HIAS workers got smart and just bought him a ticket. They may in fact have seen him right to the station and personally put him on the train; I'm not so clear on this part.
So, that's how I came to be born and grow up in New York. But I like to think I sort of have Seattle roots. I did drive his car out there when I came West in 1989, anyway.
Hmm. I'm not sure if that story is as encouraging as I thought at first. Well, my grandpa did get steady work in New York, anyway; he was a jeweler, and made the ring I gave the Renaissance Woman at our wedding in 1998.
So, that's good.
I didn't get that job for which I took a cab to interview a few weeks ago, though I did get on the on-call list for the (large, prestigious) library system that posted the job. I had another interview after that for another job at another system that I found out today I also didn't get. I'm waiting to hear about a third job at yet another library system; they won't even be interviewing for that one for another couple of weeks, so I'm not holding my breath.
So I guess I'm sort of freaking out. This is the first time in ten years or so that I haven't had a solid regular job prospect right in front of me. (Well, the first time since last summer. So, the second time in ten years.)
On the other hand, I think I'll get something sometime if I can just hang in there. After all, I keep getting interviews, so eventually I'm bound to interview better than the other two or three final prospects and get the job. Right? Uh, right??
Also, not to jinx things (ptui, ptui, ptui,) but in general my family has a tendency to land on its feet, work-wise. I was reminded of that this evening when I had occasion to remember this
story about my grandfather:
My father's father came to the United States the long way around: he escaped from the czar's army via Siberia, then to China, and then took a boat to Seattle, where Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society (HIAS) workers helped him out by giving him money so that he could take a train to New York, where he had relatives. My grandpa decided that instead of taking the train, he'd use the money to stake himself to some time in Seattle; later, he told my dad he'd heard there was lots of opportunity there.
Well, opportunity there may have been, but I guess he didn't catch any of it, and after a few weeks he was back at the HIAS office, broke, and asking once again for train fare to New York. This time the HIAS workers got smart and just bought him a ticket. They may in fact have seen him right to the station and personally put him on the train; I'm not so clear on this part.
So, that's how I came to be born and grow up in New York. But I like to think I sort of have Seattle roots. I did drive his car out there when I came West in 1989, anyway.
Hmm. I'm not sure if that story is as encouraging as I thought at first. Well, my grandpa did get steady work in New York, anyway; he was a jeweler, and made the ring I gave the Renaissance Woman at our wedding in 1998.
So, that's good.
posted by elswhere | 9:23 PM
4 Comments:
You are definitely going to get something, but hugs and sympathy during the scary period of Teh Unknown.
I wish that generation, your grandfather's (and mine) had written down these stories. I always wonder what it was like for them, embarking on these unimaginable journeys. I wish it wasn't too late to ask.
i agree, you definitely seem like the land on your feet type. maybe it will take a while, like it did for me when we moved recently, but i knew it would come. keep it up!
Well, if I could, I'd hire you!
I agree, you'll find something good. However, it's hard to be in the air for awhile.
Fingers crossed for you. The Unknown can be scary!
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