- all of the joy that I received from my friends (totally undeserved, of course) on my birthday dinner
- my boyfriend getting sick after coming back from Cuba
- my jaw spontaneously deciding to lock up at all various hours of the day and night
- and daily life at the K-mov house…
I’ve been job-hunting.
I’m not saying I should get my own Lifetime show or anything (Arina the Job-Hunter: watch her stalk the perimeter, lock onto her prey, and hand them a really primped-out resume) but I’ve thrown myself into the experience. As per uzh.
It still sucks. I can’t think of a time – past, present, future, perfect future, utopian future – when it will NOT suck. Because here’s the thing: you know how great you are, how much you can help any of the fabulous workplaces you apply to (uh, or not so fabulous, as in my student-inspired case), and yet being told you don’t fit the criteria still kicks you in the gut, even if you would have started complaining about your “lame-ass job” the minute you signed that employee agreement.
The problem with finding entry-level positions while you’re still in school is that you’re not yet qualified for anything interesting, but you seem to be over-qualified for anything else. I mean, yes – I can sell shoes, staple papers, and refill drinks. So can an orangutan with the proper training. And yet nobody will hire me for these simple processes.
Actually, that’s wrong. Nobody has hired me OF YET, considering I’ve only started giving out resumes today.
But you have to go through the trouble of dressing up, looking nice, and smiling to appear – what normal society calls – “pleasant” for handing out sheafs of paper. And take into consideration that a normal, “Oh man, I totally had a crush on that person when I was 12” smile is a “Neutral-Face” for Canadians, which means that our “pleasant face” is a early-wrinkle-producing, chrome-upstaging smile on uppers – and if it’s not, well, good luck elsewhere buddy, cause that’s just RUDE.
Actually, Russians think that tourists (especially Canadians) are weird because they smile so much, even though the rest of the world thinks that Russians look like they would strip your eyeballs for cash while glancing at you on the street. Perspective, you know – that’s what I like to give you guys.
So my conclusion is that I should go job-hunting in Russia. That way maybe I’ll stop getting lock-jaw in the middle of the night from smiling strain and waking up with my bank balance scratched into my thighs.