choco_frosh: (Default)
OK, well, I should be putting an Arisia proposal together right now. Well, TECHNICALLY I said I was going to do my Census post-class self-study today, so I should be doing that, but for reasons that will become clear in a few moments, Fuck That.

Sooo... the week before last, I think it was, I applied for a job as a...junior researcher, I think it was, at [Boston Research Consulting Firm]. VERY unusually, from my experience, the department head subsequently got back in touch, albeit mainly to tell me that I was horribly overqualified. (Which was possibly true, but a) I'm switching careers, kinda, so that's expected, and b) Hey, it's a job.) Usually, even if they DO get in touch to tell you you're overqualified, that's the end of it, and you're left feeling like "Well, fuck." In THIS case, though, he said he was going to forward my résumé on to Matt, the head of their Editorial department, because they might have some freelance editorial work down the line. And that could STILL have been the end of it, but Matt actually DID email me, to say "...please let me know your bandwidth (how many hours a week you would be available to edit our research content) and let’s set up a time to talk." So I write back, and then don't hear from him for over a week, while I sit around wondering what the heck has happened THIS time.

On Wednesday, after asking myself What Would My Dad Do?, I took a moment before Census training and called Matt's number to ask more or less exactly that question, and in due course we set up an appointment for this morning.*

-------

So I get there--it's the fifth floor in a faceless office park in Waltham--and have to wait a bit, and then meet Matt and get ushered into a conference room: all of which was expected. And THEN we spend like fifteen minutes chatting about German History--which was definitely NOT--before we get down to the nitty gritty of what the job entails. As I had expected, it was going to be more of what I've been doing for [cheapskate client in Germany], namely taking stuff written by experts and editing it so it's actually decent prose.
What I had NOT been assuming was an on-the-spot job offer.

And then came the moment I had been hoping wouldn't happen. "So what do you think would be a reasonable starting rate?" he asked.

Oh Shit. I mean, I know I've been horribly underpaid in the past, but this is a potentially globalized field, and I don't want to get to greedy, because I REALLY want this job...

"Let's start me at $15?"

Matt actually laughed in my face.** "Well, I'd LIKE to employ you at that rate--or at any rate my bosses would..."
"What can I say, I've been really underpaid!"
Anyway, I somehow managed to recover from this screw-up,*** and we agreed that I should start at their standard starting rate for editors.

...which is $45 per hour.

Pause to let that sink in.
Yeah.
I'm going to be working part time, but still.
wow.


I guess I should have learned from Harvard Business School that any time you add the word "business" to a job description, they jack up the salary.

* At this point in writing this, I took a pause to go look at what was probably a juvenile bald eagle, sitting on a tree about fifty yards down the shore. As you can guess from the preceding, I'm in Maine again.

** You probably just did too, given that $15 was what we figured MRE should have been paying me, and this is a much more highly-skilled job. (Though it's also a much more pleasant one, and you can't outsource [University]'s mailroom work to someone with good English in Mumbai.) What can I say, I panicked. Fortunately, [see above]

*** I should perhaps note at this juncture that Matt is yet another person who got a PhD but then decided he didn't want to teach, AND got it in German studies, so PART of all this was that he took pity on my post-academic floundering.
That sounds more self-pitying than I feel, I guess: the OTHER part is that I'm hella good at editing papers in questionable English, and amply demonstrated that I'm experienced in the same in the course of the interview.
choco_frosh: Bede, from a MS in Benediktbeuern or someplace (baeda)
1. I've realized what the worst thing for productivity is, where job applications are concerned.

It's not trying to map the lost wetlands and burhs and shires of Anglo-Saxon England. It's not listening to Ursula talk about masturbating cats and her IUD. It's not snacks or books or chores or a caffeine habit.

It's when someone is supposed to be contacting you about a job interview for something that might actually pay the bills, but hasn't bloody done so yet.

Arrrggh. (tears metaphorical hair.)

2. Yes, the city did-- eventually--come remove the half a tree that was leaning against my window. No, nothing else seems to have broken in the process, so the only apparent casualty is one of my screens, which my landlady has promised to replace.

3. Yes, I did get my car into the mechanic this morning. The check engine light had--inevitably--turned itself off the moment I made the appointment, but they did put a patch on my muffler and replaced all the [untranslatable mechanic-speak], which they assured me would make a big difference.
And replaced a busted tail light that I'd failed to notice, which would have been the thing that would ACTUALLY have got me into trouble.

The rust was apparently nothing that was going to make my car fail inspection, but just to be on the safe side, I had them do one a month early. So now it's all inspection-stickered and stuff.
I must say, though, it's a bit disconcerting when you can remove bits of your car with your fingernails...

4. Jheesh, what is with me and the MBTA this week? The subway was massively and inexplicably delayed each of the last two days, and today it's apparently the commuter rail's turn.

Sent from my iPhone
choco_frosh: (Default)
I always forget how much the heat saps my sense of motivation.

Ah well. Got sworn in for the Census this morning, and apparently [company] potentially wants me to edit stuff for them, so I'm going to call today a win on the job front, even if I didn't get much of anything else done.
choco_frosh: (Default)
OK, time to buckle down and do job applications. (The post-Mailroom euphoria has evaporated, due to the contemplation of my lack of income and structure. Seriously, I always forget how huge that last one is. Either that, or I need to find a career designing anachronistic architecture. And I'm pretty sure those don't exist.)

Also being reminded of the fact that job applicating tends to turn into a giant "WHO can write the best cover letter?" contest. And of how much I hate that fact.
choco_frosh: Konstanz, imaginary depiction in a map of the Swabian War, 1500 (Costenitz)
Various work-related $#!7:

Fustest: So my boss, after I'd told him I was leaving at some point in the near future, asked me to write out a letter of resignation, because the higher-ups had been asking for one; and so I did, but didn't specify an end date.
Allegedly, since that was the case, they are simply going to PICK my end date, based on when we get my replacement adequately trained. So I could be out of a job as early as next Friday.

The fact that I find it plausible either that my supervisor is screwing me over OR that the upper management of MRE are being a bunch of callous, shooting-themselves-in-the-foot cheese-parers is one more reason why I need to get out of this job.

As D. at bellringing last night put it: "I mean, it's good that you're finally getting out of there! But money is good too."
(Everyone at practice expressed congratulations that I was finally leaving this job. I guess I may have been bitching about it a bit. I guess they thought the bitching was deserved.)

But yeah. Unemployed in the near future. And...


2. I thought I was being hired by the Census. They're not replying to my emails, though.


3. On the other hand, it's a three-day weekend. Or, well, 3+ days, since [University]'s closing at 2 tomorrow.* And nothing planned on Saturday, 'cause practice got cancelled due to practically every ringer in the area road-tripping to Quebec. Anybody want to do a thing?

(Friday afternoon is going to be catch up on chores and make a strawberry-rhubarb crumble, unless somebody talks me into doing something more exciting. Sunday, of course, is choir followed by more choir followed by ringing followed by more ringing followed by Fall Over. Followed by contradancing. Monday, who knows?


More Later.

PS: Everyone remind me that I need to check twiddle pins!

* 3a. Supervisor, in one of his many questionable moves, is actually giving several people the ENTIRE day off; I volunteered to be the one to come in so as to have some leverage for taking half a day off NEXT week, to meet a friend of [personal profile] sovay's at his (ridiculously well-funded research-based) place of employment, in the hopes that having some of the people there actually know my face will increase my odds of getting hired there at some point...
choco_frosh: (Default)
From an email to my Mom:

Well, the interview went MOSTLY ok, but I walked away with the feeling that I'd blown it in some way. (Why do interviews have to be such a trial by fire?) But anyway, we'll just have to see; and if I don't get it, well, it was a PT position with no benefits, so I'm going to treat that one as practice...

Meantime, everyone remind me to shave before my next Real interview. The goatee is very me, but I worry that it inevitably makes me look scruffy. Or like I'm trying to look like Lenin and failing.

Spent the rest of the day failing to find a new formal shirt at a price I could afford (Where DO normal people go for that?) and then at Tenebrae. Oh, and reading more trashy YA novels. One of these days I'll actually get $#|7 done, I swear...
choco_frosh: (Default)
I am getting sick of job interviews already.

I had one last week: allegedly for some temp.agency job in a vaguely mailroom-like situation (though for a bunch more money); chiefly so that my new...contact?...there could actually meet me in person. (Gotta say, it does not inspire confidence when one's employment agency seems to have problems retaining staff. Nor when some other one of them calls you up a week later, and apparently hasn't heard about the said interview.)

Anyway, tomorrow I have one for a Harvard library job. Which would be pretty decent, except that it's less than half time. sigh.
Also, of course, I have to take time off from work; and likewise inevitably, both of the possible times for this interview were inconvenient, and the one we settled on is going to require some fast driving if I'm even gonna make it. And you all know how much I like driving.
I mean, it's better than job interviews, I guess...
choco_frosh: (Default)
This week at work, our copy center guy is taking a few days off as paternity leave...
Which means that my favorite coworker, who usually does the deliveries with me, is in the copy center...
Which means that I take over most of HER responsibilities, while still having most of mine...

And of course, this Would be the week when some random bureaucrat decides to play mind games with us, and then raises a giant stink when we (welnigh inevitably) deliver his package to the wrong building. Sigh.

It's that kind of week.

Oh well, bell practice tonight, then have a beer withe the associate rector; and quarter peal on Sunday!
choco_frosh: (Default)
OK, I shouldn't ACTUALLY be so negative. I'm making progress, I'm (sorta) ringing Grandsire now, Plain Bob* will probably happen within the next couple of weeks. As I say: it's just weird when you remember when so-and-so couldn't put two strokes together, and now YOU're the one who's an idiot.

And I successfully replaced the clapper on the #5!** Go, me! (Now I just have to check to reassure myself that the weird noise it's making doesn't mean it's about to fall off again!

Now my job situation at the moment: THAT's worth complaining about...

*******

After practice on Wednesday, went out for one last dinner at King and I with various fellow Ephs and [personal profile] landofnowhere: the latter bore up well as the rest of us swapped stories of how the campus has changed over time, and which buildings we'd broken into for kicks at some point in our irresponsible youth.


Plain Bob, like Grandsire, is one of the simpler Methods in changeringing;
although having just read the comments on an entry by the incomparable [personal profile] tkingfisher, I am now imagining that it is what she'd call her new property if she bought a chunk of North Dakota or something.

** Albeit with a lot of help from fellow steeplekeeper Ricki, and secondarily from Margaret, Austin, and Phoebe; none of whom have DW or LJ accounts that I know of.
choco_frosh: (Default)
15. March:
Gah, OK, so apparently having had to jump through several hoops to get health care through my current employer...they're now dropping us from their health plan at the end of this month. We have two weeks to jump through ANOTHER set of hoops to get BACK on MassHealth. F---.

(And this is why my lenten discipline took a break today.)

...Yeah. I *really* would like to get that research job. Soon. Then I could stop *worrying* about health care.
(They haven't gotten back since last week. No news is not good news in this case. So this was already a bad week, and then today we found THIS out.)

Addendum )

ETA, 3/16: The one result of a mostly useless conference call with Corporate on the subject was to learn that they're now waiting until the end of NEXT month to drop us from the health plan. So we have some breathing room.
Still no news.
choco_frosh: (Default)
Are there words for these?

1. A decadent food item (or meal, or perhaps any item) that you buy because life is horrible and yet you need to be able to face it: e.g. second breakfast of protein and fat and caffeine, between two 2-hour car drives when you're short on sleep and have a job interview at the end of the second one and also you apparently Can't Have Nice Things in other areas of your life.

2. Any truly unnecessary hoop that a potential employer makes you jump. E.g.: job interviews for call-center candidates supplied by a staffing agency; any interview or application question along the lines of "What attracts you about this position?"
(I long for the day when my finances are stable enough that I can give the honest answer: "The money, of course.")

3. Any feeling that is ironic in the circumstances: in this case, rage and frustration because calmingmanatee.com is taking too long to load.


There probably is a word for the feeling where the less-than-ideal-but-ok job/situation you thought you had in the bag suddenly evaporates, though, even though I can't recall what it is.
choco_frosh: (Default)
I called my Dad today. He is now apparently under the impression that I have been super-productive this week, what with getting everything squared away with the Census (I hope), and getting a job interview for something else on Monday.
Ha.
I have NOT been productive this week. I'd blame the heat, but it's really my inherent slackassitude. Instead, I have reread three novels,* modded my plans to extend the Green Line extension (which in turn involved mucking about with Bing maps and image manipulation programs for hours), and suchlike. sigh.

Oh well, at least the job search is going ok anyway?

In other news: was thinking of going strawberry picking tomorrow, but it looks like we're actually gonna plan for the weekend after next, when Peter's** here (and one or two people might be more available, too.)

Really looking forward to Readercon. Which is kinda odd, since I tend to feel a bit of a fish out of water: everyone's always talking about books and authors I've never read. But it's three days of going to friends' panels to cheer them on, and getting to feel useful and accomplished by volunteering, and hanging out with cool people.
But I still haven't pre-reg'd, and the deadline is two days away. I've been dithering, and putting off the decision. Because with my luck, if I register that'll be the weekend that the massive data-entry project gets re-rescheduled for, or I'll have mandatory Census training all four days. ugh.

* OK, I hadn't read The Martian before. But then I reread it (with some skimming) like twice more, so still counts.

** Oh crumbs, and I was supposed to mail him those legos! F---. Well, Monday.
choco_frosh: (Default)
OK. Application to the Gardner submitted.
Now it's time to curl up in a fetal ball and wonder how/if I screwed this one up...
choco_frosh: (Default)
ME: Do you know what sucks about job applicating?
BARRISTA: All of it?

[She officially wins the conversation, and also is my hero now.]

ME: ...Yes! That. But also,
(1) When you have to list "That one time when you were working for your parents" on your résumé...
BARRISTA: Do you really have to list that?
ME: Weeelllll, it would be helpful in this case. Especially when
(2) Two of the people you would otherwise be using as references are dead.
choco_frosh: (Default)
Squigamunk came over this morning, and we packed all the things.
Well, not ALL the things. She came over to help with the books, and we ended up getting most of my library, excl. cookbooks, children's books, and stuff I'm trying to read. In about an hour. So then things kinda spiraled from there, and so now the space formerly occupied by my bookshelf in here is now boxes stacked waist high, there's a box marked "Fragile--Paintings!" on the bottom shelf of the OTHER bookcase, and the trunk of my car has most of my personal china and cooking equipment. (We moved it down because there's no safe way for one person to carry the damn' thing, 'cause we packed it in one of the mid-to-large-sized LL Bean boxes that she'd brought along. And we packed it because I figure I can just use Mitbewohner's stuff for the next couple of weeks.*
Squigamunk rocks. Especially since she was running on less than an hour of sleep.

(I *will* still need help boxing up the last things and hauling everything down the stairs to whatever vehicle I'm using, though.)

Meantime, job applications. Tomorrow: the Gardner; tonight I finished up an application to paralegal for an environmental lawyer, which would ALSO be pretty cool.
Umm, anybody want to proofread it?
I'm always afraid I've included some obvious typo. )</small
choco_frosh: (Default)
Man, I think I almost hate the job applications of the jobs I really, really want more than the applications for the jobs I'm not sure I want at all. So nervous-making.


A propos of that: does it make sense to note, when applying for a manuscript cataloging job, that your mom runs < noteworthy manuscript cataloging project >?

ETA (because the original post was even MORE cryptic than necessary):
The job is at the Gardner, before you ask. The Gardner! And no one's ever cataloged her library properly. Yoiks.
choco_frosh: (Default)
Welp, the bad news is that the temporary position at the copy center (the one I was supposed to start two weeks ago) has been canceled. The good news is they have something else for me )
choco_frosh: (Default)
I applied for another of those jobs that want your last seven years' worth of employers. One of the ones where, by the end of the application, you can't remember what the position was, because you were focused on remembering the contact info. for the last dozen employers...
Also finally applied for that research assistant job with Harvard professor/librarian and internet activist Jonathan Zittrain. As I told him frankly in my cover letter, I have no idea whether I'm exactly right for the job or exactly wrong, but it was too intriguing not to apply. (That said, as Sovay knows I procrastinated on this for like two weeks, because I REALLY don't think I'm getting this one.)

Everything else (job- and Boston housing-wise) is hanging fire. As is what the hell-ass kind of precipitation we're getting tomorrow...
choco_frosh: (Default)
Hokay. There's nothing interesting to apply to this afternoon,* so I'm going to finally get around to posting something!

Read more... )
choco_frosh: (Default)
Still up, waiting for the Thanksgiving Zwiebelkuchen to cook. I guess it isn't that late, but my brain's pretty much dead.

Things:
- NOT doing anything else cranberry-related for tomorrow.* One sauce is enough, and it is happy in its jar.

- I did get the application for the Database Company That Shall Not Be Named done. Along with like three other job applications.
Possibly the whole thing about introverts responding more productively to caffeine in the afternoons is true.

- So as you will have gathered, I spent the evening cooking. (And attempting to translate a formal invitation from the Icelandic, but that's beside the point.)

- Ursulav's post about Whisper Networks and their problems is hella depressing. And reminds me all too much of...well, that one Readercon.**
It is somehow - irrationally - heartening that her resident Angry Bald Man has now been inducted into the Dorsai, who...well, sometimes, hopefully, help deal with these things.

- Happier fact: it is snowing. (Though shoveling the resulting slop earlier was...not the greatest. Nor was driving through it. OTOH, I was doing both these things 'cause I got to put my car in the driveway, so I don't have to worry about parking bans, snowploughs, or anything related.

There is probably more that I could say, but instead I am going to go to bed--at least temporarily.

* Well, unless I wake up hyper-energetic tomorrow.
** Actually, BOTH Readercons I went to featured the sort of "established people in the fandom being off beyond sketchy" problem that Whisper Networks attempt to deal with. In retrospect, bringing the dagger that one time was kinda dumb, because threatening someone with even a blunt dagger would have been a really really bad way to deal with that sort of situation...but when somebody I know hits the panic button, I sortof tend to go all-out. Anyway, the dagger merely got used to pry open a durian, so it was all good.

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