The One

I got a customer! My first customer! My only customer. The early bird deadline has come and gone and I have one customer.

Working Mom

My son has decided he likes to cook - which is so much better than spending hours in front of computer games or the t.v. So, yay for an interest in cooking. Unfortunately, I don't want to bake cookies, blend smoothies and make chex mix when I get home from work. Every single night. My son knows he has to clean up after himself, but I can assure you that an 8 years old's definition of a clean kitchen does not even come close to meeting something that would pass a health code inspection. And, and, his after school care teachers are frustrated with him because he makes crappy crafts at school and then tries to sell them (oh the horror) to parents when they are picking up their kids. As soon as we get home he wants to play some game he has made up with string and paper clips. I have tried to look busy for 8 hours in front of a computer so you would think I would welcome some interaction but the last thing I can handle is walking into school, seeing my son begging other parents for money, and then being asked if I want to play a game with string. I am not a good parent. I do not want to play a game with string not even for one minute.

So, yesterday, after a rejection letter, nobody signing up for my seminar, my kitchen a disaster, finding out that my son's spag-os with meatballs had leaked all over his backpack, and explaining to him that we do not try to sell string to other people's parents, all I could manage to do was to sit on the kitchen floor and cry.

Today I was at the dentist. A woman walked in with her child that looked to be about the age of my son. This young boy was blind and, by the sounds he was making, also deaf. I noticed when he stood up that he was wearing a diaper. The boy is bobbing his head back and forth and grunting so loudly that everyone in the waiting room is forced to notice. The mother moves with patience and grace. Everyone in the waiting room seems uncomfortable to some degree with this boy and his strange movements and loud grunts, but the mom is not. This is her son. This is her life. I wonder if the boy will be scared to feel the dentist's hands in his mouth, not being able to see or hear what is going on. Then again, this boy is probably use to not knowing when someone is going to touch him or what is going on around him.

The mother is explaining to the lady at the front desk that her employer has stopped carrying dental insurance, so she is going to have to pay outright for this appointment. She is also saying how she might have to quit her job because they can no longer afford their son's nurse. The mom is explaining, however, that she really needs her job as a break from her son, whose care needs are persistent throughout the evening and night.

I realize that this woman and I were probably pregnant at the same time. She probably had the same dreams I did when I was pregnant about whether her child would become an artist or a doctor or lawyer. She probably thought about his first days of school, his first girlfriend, his soccer games. Like me, she probably eagerly anticipated the first time her son would say "mommy" and "I love you." But through no fault of her own, through nothing she ever did, all of those dreams were taken away from her.

Right now my son is with his father, and I will not see him until Sunday. I want nothing more than to hold him and tell him I love him. And he will say, because he always does, "I love you too."

Says Her

My counselor (the benefits of Therapy Tuesday to be posted in another post) is worried that nobody is going to sign up for my seminar at this point. She is so worried that she is talking to me about how to handle the disappointment. And I'm thinking, hey you, not very mental health friendly. We still have three whole days before the early bird deadline is done. People signed up for the seminar = 0. junk food consumed = copious.

Update

Rejection Letter = 1. Inquiry as to location of seminar = 1! People signed up for seminar = 0. White chocolate Reese's peanut butter cups = 1

The Search

Over the past 5 months, I have sent out 12 letters and resumes to job postings on the web. From those mailings, I have received three phone calls, and from those phone calls, I scored two interviews. One interview was for a paralegal position. The other interview was for a recruiter/head hunter type position. I did not get either of the jobs. Actually, I never heard back from the people about the paralegal position. They actually tried to convince me through the entire interview that I did not want the job. The final phone call was from a law firm out of town that is just now beginning its search. I can't even imagine the logistics of that one if they call back. I have not heard anything about the status of my 9 other applications. I have contacts at two of the 12 companies with postings, but contacting them has not proven to lead to any advantage.

Interestingly, I did not find the job/project that I am doing now through a posting. It was through a friend of a friend. This may prove the general belief that most people do not have success in their job search through web postings.

Responding to only 12 postings might not seem like a lot, but I can assure you that I have applied for everything I can find that seems to match my skill set, and more than a few that I am way overqualified for. There have simply been very few attorney positions open in this town this summer. In fact, the big firms haven't had any jobs posted for months.

I know that I need to start networking. So far I have taken three people out to lunch. Two of those people are other attorney friends that work at firms with practices in my area of the law. The other lunch was with an accountant that wants me to write an article with him. Any in-person networking beyond that is going to be cold calling, which is not something I particularly enjoy.

Only 5 days left for the early bird discount for my seminar. People signed up = 0. White chocolate Reese's peanut butter cups consumed = 2.

Five Months Later

About that business -

I decided to start a business giving seminars. I want to be the next Tony Robbins. Just kidding. I dated a guy who was a Tony Robbins follower. Well, we dated until I found out that he was a Tony Robbins follower and that Tony Robbins would also be joining us in the relationship.

No, I am giving seminars on a certain area of the law. I started the business about two months ago. Since then, I have been developing the seminar. I just sent out about 250 fliers for the first seminar that is happening next month. There is an early bird deadline for the people that sign up during this month. Nobody has signed up yet.

Angry

One of my friends says that when I blog about my job, I sound like an angry only child. This may be because I am an angry only child. Its okay, he can tell me stuff like that. He also points out when I need my roots touched up.

Its hard not to be angry. The mistake I made, the one that my boss told me led to his putting me on the lay-off list, was no more or no less significant than mistakes that get made on a daily basis by humans working in a law firm. It was no more or no less significant than mistakes that I had found in his work when he was rushed and needed me to proof something. My work was, consistently, very good.

So, yes, I am angry. I am angry that, much like a few years ago, I am not in a position to buy my son back-to-school clothes. Mad that I do not have a job to go to that I worked very very hard to find, that I was good at, and that I enjoyed. And some days (especially the days in the dark cube) I start to get upset. And I have noticed that bad days are starting to outnumber good days. I am finding it harder and harder to believe that it is all going to be okay.

Then something kicked in. And I started to work on my own business.

Men are a trip

Yesterday I stayed at home with my son because he had no summer camp and no school. He asked me questions for 12 hours straight. Twelve. Hours. Straight. I also got him a snazzy haircut that he totally loves because it is still fairly long (the sufer dude cut). When ex-husband picked him up, he made fun of the hair cut. Then ex-husband told me that I was cruel because I hadn't dug up the butterfly bush by the front door and it is completely covered in bees and my son is incredibly afraid of bees. So I dealt with his crap and I had just received a rejection letter from one of the jobs that I applied for. Ten minutes after my son left, my husband walks through the door after being out of town for three days and he asked me about my day. Huge mistake.
I tell him everything - how I am so frustrated with my job search, how I had answered questions about jellyfish and outerspace and math all day long and how ex-husband made fun of the hair cut. And do you know what my husband says to me? He says "I want you."

Tori and Dean

My husband is beautiful. People tell him that he looks like Ralph Fiennes. He is tall and tan and dirty blonde and sexy. Old ladies love him. Seriously. They hit on him right in front of me. I think this is because, in addition to being sexy, he has this incredibly kind face. As women get older, I think they realize the importance of kindness in a man.
So when my husband walked into the living room last night wearing only a towel, my first thought was, "Hello there!" But then he totally changed the mood by saying that he would go get the cupcakes. This is akin to telling a man he can drive off in the nice sports car while, at the same time, showing him two women making out. He'll get in the car, but he'll still be thinking about the two women. I would still be thinking about the cupcake.
We go over to the couch to begin cupcake consumption. My husband realizes he is going to get nowhere like this, so he goes back into the bedroom and comes back wearing his Calvin Klein boxer briefs that he knows I find incredibly hot. But by then, Tori and Dean was on. And I had a cupcake. I'm sorry honey. You are the most beautiful man to ever walk the face of this earth. But Tori and Dean was on. And I had a cupcake.

Namaste

Do not send me business emails signed "namaste". They will not be read nor answered. You have been put on notice. You may sign your emails namaste as soon as you see me doing downward dog at the office.