(Oh wait...it's just me that's left. Thanks for watching the place while I was gone. Did I get any mail? Packages? Did the cats give you any problems?)
For those of you on Facebook, I hope you saw my
An actual, honest-to-goodness, dress-up clothes job.
Here's what happened: Back in May, I interviewed for an old job I had, that I was very qualified for (duh) where the adoring public knew me and respected me and constantly told me what a good job I did.
Well, my boss didn't feel the same way. It got to a point where nothing I said or did was good enough. (I happened to see the movie The Devil Wears Prada during my tenure there, and had to literally bite my tongue when discussing the movie with her. "I think anyone who's....had a boss....can relate to that movie.")
Fast forward four years, my old job is up, I'm ready to get back in the workforce, and figure four years has mellowed her and matured me, or at very least, I could handle her moody fits better. So I applied. And in the meantime, did freelance work for her. Good freelance work. She called me for an interview.
I go, and she closes the door and says, "I'm not going to hire you."
Then why the F did you call me in?
I'm 99% certain it was to satisfy HR, since I was a past employee, held the job earlier, knew my way around it, and in all honesty, most everyone there liked me and knew I did good work.
I came home from that "interview" and feverish applied for a bunch of jobs I found online, plus e-mailed a few contacts I had that could point me towards openings.
(Anger is how I get stuff done, apparently.)
|Suck it, former boss. You really shot yourself in the arse this time, didn't you?|
Again, this was in May and I had been looking since December...applying and resume-ing and interviewing. I told myself that if I didn't get anything by the Memorial Day, I would put the job hunt on hold for the summer and start again when the kids went back to school.
About six weeks after my "interview" at the old job, I see in the paper that the new person my old boss hired had written a story about himself (all in the first person, which is a newspaper no-no, I'd like to point out) saying he hadn't even applied for the job, my old boss had called him straight from his college graduation to ask if he'd like the position.
Oh, I was hot. I can tolerate many things. I'd even begun to get over the "interview" (even when both of my parents and husband said I should tell him or her to F off). But to hire a recent college graduate with no experience over someone who had the job before and excelled at it was humiliating and degrading. I seriously thought about filing some sort of discrimination suit. (He/she said I couldn't do the job because I had kids.)
A week after that not-awesome story came out, I got a call from one of the places I applied in May. Very long story short, I went through three interviews, a background check, and a drug screen, and was offered the job. Making about three times what I would have made at the other job.
(The Blaze of Glory happened as I was on my way to the final interview. Timing is everything.)
And then, a few days later, I glanced at the want-ads. My old job, up for hire again.
I called my old co-worker. Mr. No Experience lasted three weeks.
And then I got an e-mail from my old boss, asking if I could cover some stories this week.
Saying I gotten a new job and couldn't help anymore never felt so good.
I'm not sure if it were Karma at work or God, or if I'm even supposed to believe in both, but the smile on my face just wouldn't come off. I know you're not supposed to enjoy other people's misfortunes, but I think in this situation, it was definitely justified.
After this feeling wears off, I'm sure I'll go by the old Liberace quote, "I cried all the way to the bank."