Since last October, I have been part of an ever increasing group of characters known as job hunters. It is a frustrating experience ... partly when you find out that ability is one of the least concerns of some employers.
You find yourself taking a serious look at your skills and saying, "Well, I know what I like to do. But what is it that I am capable of doing?"
At the moment, I have four resumes on the computer. They all have the same basic information but each of them also has a twist to them, an accentuation directed in a different area. Before applying, you find yourself reading the job description carefully and changing the wording on the resume each time in an attempt to make it a perfect fit. When it doesn't work, all you can do is sigh and try again.
Don't misunderstand. I am luckier than many folks in this situation. I have a very understanding spouse and family, a little savings I can tap into and have managed to get some part-time work. Unlike some other folks, I also qualify for unemployment benefits.
Life could be a helluva lot worse.
For some reason, this situation reminded me of something that happened in 1976 while I was a college student. Spring Fling was coming up and a few of us in the dorm were moaning we didn't have dates for the event. Joe Sweeney, an old friend, told me he knew the perfect girl for me to call. She was someone he had taken some classes with. He was fairly sure she wasn't seeing anyone and he thought we would be a good match together.
So I called this girl who didn't know me from Adam at 10 p.m. on a Wednesday night and invited to the biggest social event of the year ... that was happening three days later.
Things didn't start out so well. It turned out that Joe had gotten his names mixed up. He did know Pat (that were her name) very well. It was her sister (I think her name was Kathy) who was his classmate. Pat had met Joe once and barely remembered him.
As it developed, we ended not going to the dance that Saturday because her parents were coming from Detroit Lakes to visit her. But good things do occasionally come to those who stick their neck out a long way. Pat and I did go out a few times. Nothing romantic became of it but we did become friends the rest of our time in college.
For reasons I can't exactly pinpoint, this remembrance fills me with hope something good is around the corner for me. There is only one problem I can see. Who do I know that I can call looking for a job who is awake after 10 p.m. on a weeknight?
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