it is not possible to make a mistake
“burrrrrbb,” Chloe muttered as she walked out the door to transfer her clothes into the dryer, “that’s ‘brb’ in case you didn’t know. Why don’t you put that in your blog.”
“Oh I will,” I answered.
Chloe just found out that I had a blog and that she happens to play a starring role in it. She is not as angry about this as she would have me believe.
October 9, 2008 will go down in history as the day the job thing finally started to come together. It has been nearly four weeks since I moved to the city and all of a sudden I get like four job offers, admittedly for kind of random jobs, or as Chloe says, “Nothing that pays more than nine dollars an hour,” and as Jacqueline says, “You can be Random Woman for Halloween.” This is a good example of the fundamental way in which my roommates differ.
This morning I got a call from the temp agency I’m signed up with for a position that needed to be filled today. Of course I was at the gym without my phone when they called, and the space was already filled by the time I got called back, but the fact that I WAS CALLED FOR A JOB is heartening non the less. I hardly had time to bemoan leaving my phone for even an instant, when I was called by Starbucks for a second interview downtown. I immediately hopped on the bus and headed out. On my way there I was called by a low-income counseling center associated with USF where I am interested in volunteering. The assistant director invited me to come down this afternoon and to bring my resume and references. I had to smile about the fact that not even a place where you are offering to work for FREE will take you without a resume and reference check.
At Starbucks I learned that the position would require me to start at, ahem, 4 am. Of course I nodded enthusiastically, saying that I am such a morning person anyway, but realizing that in order to be there at that time I would have to wake up at three. That’s not morning as far as I’m concerned. That’s hell. I said I would take it and was told to report on Monday at 9 for their twenty-four hour intensive training program. I walked out slightly dazed.
Upon arrival back at our apartment, I was greeted by the electrician who has been working on installing our intercom system. I was beginning to wonder what he thought I was doing all the time since I was always here during the day, and I got my answer when he said, “Girl, you have way too much time on your hands.” I told him that I was on the job hunt and quickly on my way to becoming his boss. Little did I know I was about to become his employee. That’s right our electrician wants me to be his assistant, or online liaison to the people, as I like to think of it. I am to handle the incoming mail to his craigslist posting and tell him about new jobs for which I will earn a cool 10% of the job cost. He mentioned that he had a friend who was a plumber, and that maybe I could work for him too. Suddenly, vistas were opening before me, and I was envisioning myself as the supreme ruler of all skilled labor in the bay area.
Off I rushed to my appointment with the family counseling center feeling very businesslike and important, I was after all carrying a blue folder with my very professional resume tucked inside. I rode the J train to Glen Park and arrived at the Mecca of community health clinics. These people are operating out of a three-story space that used to occupy an interior design firm. It’s all glass and brushed aluminum and minimal furniture and gorgeous views. After a brief interview, the associate director looked at me and said, the words that an aspiring writer only dreams of hearing, “You don’t like to blog do you?” I could only nod hungrily. And then she did it. She asked me if I would like to be in charge of their blog.
I came home to find a letter from another community health clinic, where I had applied to be a relief counselor. They were inviting me to an interview next week. And should I get the job I would be getting paid to counsel people. Who me? Yes you.
And that is what you call a productive day.