dianaschnuth

I don’t want to be working at Sky in ten years. Hell, I don’t want to be working at Sky in five years. To that end, I am going to stop sulking and go locate myself a new job.

No, really. I am. This time, I mean it.

I have a list of about half a dozen local companies I’m planning to target, and I plan to wring more possibilities out of all my local contacts (which isn’t many, I’ll grant). I just bought a pack of 100 hub-printable mini CD-Rs (and they were a *bitch* to find at a decent price, let me tell you what). I already updated my resume to send in response to that one classified a couple weeks ago, so that’s done—although I’ll still need to update the super-cool print version. The paperwork for July’s NISDM Flash workshop is printed out and ready to mail, as soon as I know how much my former- student-employee discount will be.

I intend to resharpen my Director skillz by making myself a new multimedia portfolio (hence the 80mm mini CD-Rs). I also intend to teach myself some more PHP, so I can confidently say “I know PHP” with a straight face.

My main concerns:
– What’s my selling point? Why do people need ME in particular?
– Do I need to buy a $200+ suit to go out and interview? Would it help?
– Will my three years of working a financial job instead of design hurt my chances?
– How honest can I be with interviewers about *why* I feel I need a new gig?
– How much persistence is appropriate, and what’s over the line and annoying?

I need to bottle this enthusiasm and keep it somewhere, like a can of Perri-Air (a la Spaceballs). Even though I’m totally exhausted and still need to wash some dishes before I go to bed, I can still be moderately excited about finding a new job. I’m afraid that, in a day or two, this fire will disappear yet again, and I’ll be back to feeling inadequate with my design skills and lukewarm about finding a new job.

I woke up this morning and just couldn’t bring myself to go to work. It’s not that I hate my job or anything, because I don’t. (Granted, I don’t particularly enjoy it, either.) But I was exhausted and felt like I’d hit some sort of wall.

So, I took a mental health day.

If anyone asks, though, it was a mental health / catching-up day. Which is true: I worked on my website redesign and helped Aaron with the broken washing machine. And caught up on sleep.

During Amy’s visit and our marathon Grounds For Thought session, we decided that I should look for some graphic design classes to take, and maybe get a certificate or an Associates Degree. That way, I’d feel better about my skills and I’d be more confident when applying for jobs. After looking at my choices, though, I can’t really justify paying hundreds if not thousands of dollars to re-learn what I already know.

I found a web / graphic designer posting in Sunday’s Blade, so I sent my resume and portfolio to the e-mail address they gave. Today I got a reply: “This message is to confirm receipt of your email submission, dated 4/26/05.” This does not imbue me with confidence. Also, the scant research I did on the company confuses me, as their website appears to be currently nonexistent, with the domain name being registered by an individual in Seattle. o.O

Anyway, Aaron agreed that taking classes is a good idea, but that maybe I should go for something I *don’t* already know. Like Computer Science. If I knew .NET, or at least ASP and C++ and stuff like that, I’d be much more marketable. Truth be told, I do enjoy what programming I know, so it’s not like I’d be learning skills to get into a job I would hate. I don’t think.

So, yeah. Now that I have my sights set on the horizon yet again, going back to work at my lame bank job seems… lame. But whatcha gonna do? *shrug*

Update: Thread (formerly ImageSource) still has that job posting that I tried for a few months ago. I feel qualified, but at the same time, I feel like it’s just beyond my grasp. I want to cry. THIS is why I don’t get all in job-hunting mode very often.

First, I dreamed about Rob (which was bizarre). Then, today at work, he gave me a backhanded compliment that pissed me off. Then he made up for it all by arranging things so I wouldn’t have to answer phones on my birthday.

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OMG, I am in such a shitty mood this morning. I only got six hours of sleep last night, thanks to staying up waaaay too late to work on my Totoro hat. My alarm woke me out of a *very* sound sleep this morning, which never does good things for my mood, anyway. I hit snooze, and I swear it went off two minutes later instead of nine. 😛 Then, Mei decided it was time to bang the kitchen cupboards for a while, at which point I got up, threatened the cat with a swift kick in her general direction, and did my morning thing.

Managed to leave the house early, per last night?s suggestion from Stan Stachak, and got to work at five till eight, which was good (compared with my usual 8:03am). The snow wasn?t all that bad this morning—only a dusting, instead of the 1-3″ we were supposed to get overnight. It?s really coming down now, though, and that three inches is supposed to accumulate by the time I leave work today. (Also not improving my mood.) Oh, and I managed to leave my gloves and scarf at home, which added to my joy as I walked in to work from the back parking lot, and even as I contemplate going back out to the car this evening after work.

Add on top of that a couple stupid misunderstandings at work (in which I was right, of course, and was actually acknowledged as such in the end), and I?m just uber-grouchy and tired and grrr. I?m not necessarily having a shitty day; I?m just in a shitty mood. And, no, I don?t think caffeine or sugar would help, so I?m not even tempted to go get a Frappuccino for my bunghole.

(BTW, Sheryl—I ended up putting in the Star Trek IV DVD while I fabricated my second Totoro hat last night, complete with subtitled text commentary. w00t!)

…When You Work With A Bunch Of Turkeys.

Sometimes I really wish I could blog about work. Sometimes I think I could write my entries in such a way that no one would be the wiser; I could hide the identities of my co-workers to protect the innocent and the stupid. But then it occurs to me that, no matter how I were to mask the true identities of these people about whom rumors fly, or about whose orientation I’m unsure, or whose personal habits and idiosyncrasies perplex me… if they happened upon my site, they would undoubtedly realize I’d been blogging about them.

Telling my husband or my friends about my co-workers is one thing; they don’t know any of these people, will never see them, and likely may never even meet them. But postings on the internet have a way of getting back to people, and I’m not prepared to get Dooced just to share my confusion about the girl who always runs across the parking lot after work, or gossip about a former temp, or show pity for a given co-worker’s physical challenges, or describe exactly how easy it would be for a bank employee to be generally scandalous, or what-have-you.

And that’s really too bad. There’s some weird shit that goes on here sometimes.