If you’re like me, you’re facing unemployment. You’ve just finished high school or your fancy-dancy, hideously expensive post-secondary education, and you’re ready to face the real world. Or you’re one of the lucky ones who snagged a summer internship or contract position and your end date is looming. But it won’t be so bad, right? The real world isn’t that scary. I mean, everyone around you is doing it and they’re fine.
I’m terrified.
Stage One: The Pre-Search Feel-Goodies
Your resume is sparkling and you’ve honed your cover letter writing skills. You attended a few workshops and you can wow any employer with your apt responses and buzzwords. Your mom has looked over your application material and she said that she would hire you.
You feel good. Enjoy it. I wish I could tell you this would last longer.
Stage Two: The Application Process Jitters
You’ve started your search. You’re picking and choosing a select few jobs here and there that interest you and that are relevant to your experience and your goals.
Wow! Look at how many there are in this list. Recession? You don’t even remember what that means. You’ll apply to this one and that one and look, there’s another over here. Oh, wait. That one wants 5 years experience. And this one? Who the heck has training in bathing chimps?
Maybe you should take a bit more time perfecting that cover letter for the one job you actually qualify for. It may just be your lifeline.
I guess that doesn’t look too hard.
Stage Three: Taking Over the World
It’s been about two weeks. No one has contacted you for a job or an interview or even to tell you that your application was garbage. Out of the 10 jobs you *thought* would be awesome for you, you’ve managed to get none of them.
Time to expand the job search. Weird hours? Okay, fine. Dog walker? At least you don’t need experience. 10-day contract with the option to extend? Well, okay.
Just apply to everything under the sun. When all these people see your fantastic resume, you’ll be prying them off of you with shovels. Then you can pick and choose. Good plan.
Stage Four: The Low
It’s been almost two months since your job search began. You’ve applied to every job that you’ve found, tried that whole networking thing that everyone seems to rave about, but still you’ve yet to secure a job. You may have had a few interviews, but they went terribly and you’re convinced the hiring manager got you confused with someone else (wait, experience bathing chimps? I don’t remember putting that in my resume…)
Ultimately, you’re still unemployed. You’re broke. You’re depressed. Your dad is offering to get you in somewhere because he knows a guy who knows a guy. If you live on your own, this is normally where you move back in with your parents. But free meals, right?
Don’t cry.
Stage Five: The Perfect Job
By now, you’ve settled into a cycle: wake up, browse for jobs, eat lunch, browse for jobs, have dinner, wallow in self-pity or invite others to join in on your misery train. In fact, you’ve become so good at this, it ought to be a full-time job.
But then there it is. You’ve just made your morning coffee and a new job has been posted. It’s the most perfect thing since all of life began. It’s interesting, there’s good hours, it’s close to home. Best of all, you qualify!
You start hyperventilating. You’ve been waiting for this moment, but what if you’re not ready? What if your resume really is terrible? You call Mom for support. “Just do it,” she says. “The only sure way to fail is to not try… and you’ve been pretty much failing already.”
One final read-through of the application. Click submit.
Stage Six: The Moment of Clarity
On an unassuming Tuesday afternoon, you’ve almost completely forgotten about that perfect job you applied for last week. In fact, it’s pretty much been absorbed by the other positions you applied for, since technically you’re still applying to anything that has the word “job” in the description. But then the phone rings. It snaps you out of your mindless twitter feed scrolling. An unknown number? Who could it be? It better not be a telemarketer. You already told them you don’t need the ducts cleaned.
But it’s them. You’ve gotten an interview. Two days later, you go to it, so nervous and excited that you’re terrified you might pee yourself if they speak to you. By the following week, you get another call. Same number.
Welcome, job. We’ve been expecting you.
That’s the ideal, right? I’m just not quite there yet :p
Michael Cristiano 