Saturdays Are the Bomb
I have always said that I don’t vacation very well. It
seems that I can take a few days and then I get the itch to get back to work.
Terrible habit…
I have been on the job hunt for about 6 weeks now. I
left my previous job “because I needed a change”; nudge, nudge, wink, wink to
quote Monty Python’s Flying Circus.
The first week or two was an amazing experience. For
the first time in almost 30 years I woke up without a worry, a care or any
anxiety at all. Nothing. Zilch. I think I was seeing what “retirement” was
going to possibly be like. I
spent the first week (which was July 4th week) on the couch acting
like I was taking some time off for the holidays. The second week I split
around 2-3 cords of wood from an enormous oak tree that had died last year
during the drought.
Splitting wood is rather monotonous and it lets your
mind wander to a certain degree. I spent probably 3-4 hours a day splitting and
stacking enough firewood for my niece and nephew’s grand children to use. I
thought about old friends I haven’t talked to in a long time. I thought about
my grandparents, and I pondered what in the hell happened to the San Francisco
Giants this year. Before his crash, I hope Madison had fun on his dirt bike…
Week three I switched to job hunt mode. For the last 3
week’s I have spent the entire day on the phone, on the computer looking at job
boards and practicing interview questions. I actually thought I would end up
wandering over to You Tube and watching Van Halen videos, but I stayed true to
form and pressed on.
I also spent a good bit of time calling business
associates to explain what had happened and why I did it. I think my list had
100 names on it. That’s a good thing because everyone I worked with was a
friend.
After about 2-3 days of dialing the phone and
repeating the same story over and over again, I ran out of gas. I got to
thinking, “Why am I spending all this time explaining myself.” Some of my
friends honestly gave me leads and made calls themselves, but the majority would
kindly say, ”Don’t worry, you’ll bounce back. You’ve got a great reputation in
this industry and everybody likes you.” Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate all
the kind words and the encouragement. I realize I am a likable person and I
will land on my feet, but the $1,000,000.00 question is
WHEN??
There are days when you have a phone conversation or a
positive email and things start looking up. Then the inevitable message of
“Sorry, but we have filled the position.” or “You’re qualifications are not what we are looking for.” comes
along. Although in one or two instances this scenario has happened and at 4:00
in the afternoon I get a positive phone call or email and the sun comes out
again.
My situation is similar to the pitcher who is throwing
a no-hitter into the 7th inning and the whole team lets him sit by
himself at the end of the dugout. No one gives him a look or a pat on the back.
The team doesn’t want to jinx him. On an island sort of thing…
I do have friends who call or text fairly often and
that means a lot to me, but I sometimes like the island life to a point. Maybe
I need to be left to my thoughts and let me work this out by myself.
My brother has been in the same place I have been, but
for a lot longer. His position was eliminated in January and he received an
offer this past week. We have shared information and encouragement between
ourselves and that has helped a bunch. My dad was about the same age as me when
Mobil Oil decided he was not needed and they turned him out. Big difference is
he had 3 kids. Dad took some time like me and relaxed for a bit, but he bounced
back like a boss. He did an about face and left the oil business behind. I know
I don’t want to leave agriculture and animal health behind, so that fork in the
road won’t be approached.
I have had some really good leads and good
conversations the last few weeks and I am confident someone will see my solid
skills and chiseled good looks. Well at least the job skills…
I still remind myself that it has only been 6 weeks.
Unfortunately it feels like 6 months. I keep reminding myself of what my
brother told me;
“It ain’t that bad, every day is Saturday and you get
to wear shorts all week.”
