You're Unhirable... That's What You Are...
2003-06-21, 12:27 p.m.

Yep, that's me, Mr. Unhiriable.

So I managed to actually get a call back from a place to which I sent an application - a rare thing these days - for a not-so-hot data entry position for an area delivery company. Hey, it's an job. I had a 45-minute interview on Wednesday, and a follow-up interview with one of the higher-ups on Thursday. He seemed to think that I was pretty much right for the position. Actually I'm too right for the position, but income is income. I was told that I'd hear from them on Friday either way as to whether I'm hired.

And what did I get? Nothing. Zip. Nada. The had my home number as well as my cell number, so there was no reason thet they couldn't have gotten a hold of me or left a message or something. How do you do that to a person, especially in these not-so-great times? I all but pleaded with them to hire me, indicating that I have a family to take care of and the market sucks right now so you don't have to worry about me being overqualified cos there's nowhere else better for me to shift to in 3 months. But hey, it was crappy hours (12pm-8pm - not exactly great family hours) and for only mediocre pay. Not that I wouldn't have been 'happy' to take it.

My last sentance reminds me of something that my dear friend Julie told me a little while ago, that I tend to amend and ameliorate statements; that is, to soften or improve on a statement. Not that that's a bad thing. *g* I mean, sure, I could amend the original sentance, but stopping every thirty seconds to edit my context would seriously undermine my wrinting flow. Thus instead, I 'Not that...'. Not that I mind it. Yea verily, I enjoy it.

Back ot my previous topic of the Hell of Can't Get Hired, I fully intend on drowning my sorrows tonight in karaoke. Tomorrow is my sister-in-law's college grad party (she's a nutritionist, now), and we convinced my father-in-law (not that it took much covincing) to get a karaoke setup for the shindig. The problem is, the guy we're getting the system from isn't open on Sunday, so - gosh darn it - we're going to have to pick it up this afternoon instead. Which means that we have a most excellent happy toy to play with all night. Did I mention that I sing? I do. And well, I might add. And I can play the guitar, too. And I used to play the piano, but fell out of practise with that. Not that I couldn't pick it up again. It's just a matter of finding the time. Oh, and don't forget the ukulele. You haven't lived til you've heard my rendition of Synchronicity II.

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