Wednesday, May 6, 2009
I quit! (or Take this non-job and shove it!)
Today as I was doing my 10 a.m. job search and apply, I happened to notice that today's date is 5-6-09. Not that that means anything, but my job search has now entered its 5th month. I started exactly on January 1st...and now I'm into May. This was really depressing to me because I'm a planner, and a 5 month job search has basically derailed my life plans for the next 40 years.
My life was supposed to go as follows: I get a job by April 2009, I work and save for a few months, and buy a house in San Francisco in July. The rest of 2009 would be spent working and volunteering for one of the candidates for governor of California (power play that will come in handy at a later date, fingers crossed!). In the summer of 2010, I go to the World Cup in South Africa and wear a really annoying American flag jacket everywhere. At the World Cup I get as drunk and rowdy as I want, because once I get back to the states in August, it's BABY TIME! If I get pregnant in August of 2010, I deliver in May when both my mother and my mother-in-law get out of school, and then everyone is free to help me out.
Somewhere in the 2014 to 2020 range I become the head of a private equity firm and make millions of dollars. Then when I turn 45 I run for mayor of San Francisco, I complete 2 super successful terms (crime rate goes down, marijuana is legalized, and the Tenderloin stops being a crap-hole), but when everyone says I simply must run for governor, I say thanks but no thanks. Then I buy a bar out in the woods, dedicate it to the best TV show ever, and run it until that gets boring. Finally, when I'm 65, I retire to Europe and write my memoir.
But all this has been totally derailed because I've missed my job search goal by a month. If I don't get a job, I don't save money, no money=no house, etc. etc. until I'm 65, living in a cardboard box in front of City Hall, with only my pet rats to keep me company (seriously, all the homeless people in SF have pet rats - I have never seen this in any other city).
The solution? I quit my job search and forge my own destiny. I am going to start my own business (or religion, whichever has the higher likelihood of getting funding). I will never get back the last fruitless four months of my life, but I can't keep spending day after day sending my resume out into the ether waiting for something that will never come. It's seriously enough.
Sooooo....job ideas? I have a few. Only one requires smut peddling. Another requires that Americans stay fat for the foreseeable future. And one may entangle me with the mob. But it would be nice to feel as though I have some control over what happens to me. Don't ya think?