Another job shot me down yesterday. This one wasn’t ideal (pay was decent but the city was secluded with a cost of living higher than Chicago or NYC), but being a newspaper editor is something I want to get back into. Living in a tiny ski town would be nice, too.
I thought I was a shoo-in for this job. Their guys know my guys. I don’t blame them for anything. It’s been a while since I’ve worked full time at a paper, but I’d like to be doing something with this journalism degree and writing experience (besides just telling people about it).
The interview went fine in my book. I feel like I answered all the questions correctly and had all the work experience they were looking for.
There’s one thing I did afterwards that may have hurt my chances (and I hope it didn’t). I edited a few stories from their website. The paper needed somebody to go through it. That would have been my responsibility as an editor. I wanted to show them that I could do this job and that they needed me. Maybe they took offense to this.
I asked if they could tell me what the winning candidate had over me, but they haven’t contacted me about that. At least these guys told me I didn’t get the job and did it quickly. I’ve sat by the phone and computer waiting for scheduled “did I get it” replies and been ghosted like an ugly Tinder date. I’m waiting to hear back from so many companies, newspapers and schools that I’m going batty trying to figure out what my next step may be.
All of this is frustrating. I apply to jobs for hours every week. These applications are tedious, annoying and difficult. They ask for your resume and then ask you to fill out that same info into their website. They ask for a list of references, then they make you fill out everything about your old bosses and coworkers into their website.
Some info is just impossible. I don’t remember the date I quit my job from six years ago! I don’t remember my GPA from my undergrad days! I don’t know my old boss’ home address, and if I did, I’d light some flaming bags of dog turds on his front door.
Employers these days ask some very personal questions. They want to know my sex, race, disability status or what type of veteran I am (I’m not one). If a guy wants to steal my personal information, he doesn’t need Facebook or the CIA, he can just say: Apply here!
Not only do they want reference letters; they want to talk with my references. My references have real jobs. They might not answer every effing email from every effing strange address. I can’t pester my former managers and coworkers to fill in a thousand letters or quizzes or whatever the hell these places want.
Understandably, not every company I apply to replies to me. Sometimes they do. Even though it hurts, I’d rather receive a negative message than nothing at all. At least then, I’d know they actually looked at my application.
It’s tough. I’ve applied to a few hundred jobs over the past two years. I used to wake up and apply until I felt cross-eyed from answering the same question 20 times. I’m still not finished.
One of these days, I’ll find a decent gig. Or marry rich.