Quality of Life

I interviewed for a new job. I like to do this regularly because I feel it justifies my favorite pastime; complaining about my current job. If I’m out there searching it means I’m trying to do something about the suffering I endure daily. I think my friends would agree this would be a-okay if I didn’t jump into jobs that aren’t any better than the one I left so they only have approximately 6 months whine-free.

Lately, I’ve taken great interest in jobs that are completely out of my current scope. The section on my resume that summarizes relevant experience says N/A. Impressive. The recent interview was for a position in the same company but in an entirely different department, building, etc… I finagled the interview through some lady I met at an internal conference. The interview went well. I met several people who sent me on my way with a starry smile and grand hopes. I received an email the next day that said “we currently do not have anything that fits your level.” It takes more than that to kill my dreams. I contacted my new friend, Lady Conference, to investigate the exact definition of “your level.” I figured it was a nice way to say “not interested” since I have little to no experience in this area. I get so annoyed when people don’t just say that!!!!

Lady Conference called me this week with details. She reported, hotly, “well (snort) you are too expensive.” I almost laughed but refrained. I’d be mad and likely to snort too if I found out some chick 20 years younger than me was making more money. We chatted longer and after making her laugh about one of my silly interview answers (that I invented to lighten the air) I asked her the ranges of various positions. BIG MISTAKE. My visions of a glorious career change faded quickly. Bummer.

I’m always shocked to find out what others survive on. Mind you, I don’t make money. I get by without debt. Barely. I have zero assets, no car payment, and no basic expenses (like cable.) I don’t even turn on the heat in the winter so utilities are nearly $0. This means, my entire pay check goes to rent, drinking, and personal maintenance. (The mani/pedis save me from having the exact same quality of life as a cave person.) So how the hell are the people in this particular department living? Not in Manhattan…

After further Nancy Drew detective work I learned that Lady Conference is single, without children and lives in Hamilton New Jersey. That’s a nice 3 hour round trip commute via several trains. No thanks. In general, I don’t understand the commuter mentality. Like it or not, we’re at work most of our lives. Why add the 15 hours of commuting to the weekly schedule so you can have a bigger house that you spend 0 time in? (If you have kids, I get it.) I suppose I wouldn’t live in a trailer park if it was the option to cut down on a commute, but why is quality of life defined by a better residence? I would define it as “absolutely no time on the train.”