the daily snivel
I've had a very kooky week, and I'm still a little mixed up about it. I'm starting this week-long contract with Health Canada, typing up transcripts of a two-day conference (it should take about forty hours), but I was told this week that they also need someone to take minutes of their weekly BSE (bovine spongiform encephalopathy, or mad cow disease) teleconferences. This would have been a sweet gig, and been the answer to my money problems as it could have extended into the school year as a part time job, and I could charge $35 an hour. Although there would only have been about 8 hours of work a week, the pay scale is equivalent to working forty hours for minimum wage. Anyway, today I was supposed to show up for training (sitting in on a meeting with the usual minute taker, cranking out notes on my laptop and seeing what kind of accurate records I can generate), so I arrived at 11 am in a suit and tie, vaguely melting in the heat and humidity. I was told upon my arrival that the division chief had decided, not two minutes before I'd shown up, not to hire someone for the position because the division was running in a deficit already. So I was there for basically nothing, and everyone was really embarrassed. I'm not upset, though. I only heard about the minute-taking position as a possibility (albeit a good one) and I'd committed myself to being very cautious until some kind of contract was in my hand. And, at the end of the day, I still have what should end up being an $800 transcription contract.
I was still a little crestfallen when I got home, however. I'm sure you know how soul-crushing all this hunting and rejection is. It seems like such a waste of time, yet we're losing money every single day we don't work. Happily, I got a call this afternoon from a Canadian health issue organization, to whom I'd sent my resume on Tuesday. They want me to come in for an interview on Monday morning. It's a minimum wage position, but it's for a social cause, which has both intrinsic (contribution to society) and mercenary (resume) benefits, so I'd be happy to do it. Now, I'm not getting my hopes too high, but at least someone is interested in me, even if they give the job to someone else. I was starting to think that I was doing something terribly, horribly wrong in my resumes and/or cover letters. Like somehow inadvertently including the oft-muttered phrase "I pity the fool that don't hire me" in my bulleted list of qualifications. Now, as with any interview, there are no guarantees, but I'm still happy, and you can be sure that I plan to show up and give them the best possible first impression.
Sunday, June 08, 2003 I was still a little crestfallen when I got home, however. I'm sure you know how soul-crushing all this hunting and rejection is. It seems like such a waste of time, yet we're losing money every single day we don't work. Happily, I got a call this afternoon from a Canadian health issue organization, to whom I'd sent my resume on Tuesday. They want me to come in for an interview on Monday morning. It's a minimum wage position, but it's for a social cause, which has both intrinsic (contribution to society) and mercenary (resume) benefits, so I'd be happy to do it. Now, I'm not getting my hopes too high, but at least someone is interested in me, even if they give the job to someone else. I was starting to think that I was doing something terribly, horribly wrong in my resumes and/or cover letters. Like somehow inadvertently including the oft-muttered phrase "I pity the fool that don't hire me" in my bulleted list of qualifications. Now, as with any interview, there are no guarantees, but I'm still happy, and you can be sure that I plan to show up and give them the best possible first impression.
Today has been a day of small accomplishments.
It began with the long overdue resurrection of my trusty, crusty old desktop PC (ie. the AMD K6-2 that was my faithful workhorse of a computer for many years, until I bought a shiny new Macintosh laptop and relegated the PC to scanning duties and powering a TV tuner card). In March, the oft-faulty power supply (that Rob secretly suspects was simply reconditioned, and not replaced, by the scurvy technicians at the computer shop the last time it died) died quietly in its sleep, after several weeks of ominous death rattles and general suffering. It no longer sufficiently powered the motherboard by the end, such that my computer could only boot in safe mode (to my great exasperation). I was so distraught that I eventually had to pack the computer up and hide it out of sight, so that I could be spared glancing at its remains (cheekily defaced by the clandestine application of an Apple sticker, no less). I was not in the financial or temporal position (ie. could spare neither the time nor the money) to replace the power supply, so instead I was just glad I'd had the foresight to back up all my precious files onto a handy CD, and moved on with my life with the assistance of my Mac.
Now that it's June, however, and I'm no longer pressed with studying for exams, I have some time to devote to puttering. Additionally, I'm momentarily employed, implying that I should well have the means to undertake some repairs. In fact, my new job requires me to fix my PC, as the work has to be done on WordPerfect which, as any exasperated Macintosh user can tell you, exists nowadays for the PC-compatible word only. ASIDE: thank you, Corel, your contribution to the betterment of my existence is duly noted. Mutter.
Anyway, the gist of my tirade is essentially this: I need to use Corel WordPerfect, my PC has said program, and the only thing that stood in the way of that happy fact and me is the dead and departed power supply. Luckily, power supplies are fairly cheap, as I'm fairly poor. I'd never actually installed one before, but since every other aspect of a computer's guts has known the taste of my big monkey hands at one time or another, I figured changing a power supply couldn't be any worse. In fact, since power supplies don't require drivers (and, better still, do not say "Plug and Play" at any point in their packaging), I figured it should actually be easier than anything else I've ever had to install and configure. Happily, this is in fact true. It was mindlessly easy. As a matter of fact, changing the outside lightbulb is harder -- it involves a ladder.
My computer now works perfectly. Let the income-earning begin!
Today I also helped out some very nice (and beleaguered) people at my local pet store. I was there with my friend Mélanie, on an errand to buy some tasty crickets for my hungry li'l tree frogs, and it was just about closing time. This part of the process went quite smoothly -- however, my good friend was waiting outside and looking at the sweet widdle kittens in the window (for those who know Ottawa, it was the Billings Bridge pet store) and, as I went outside (crickets in hand) to join her, I noticed something odd overhead. A budgie had detached itself from some hiding nook within the store, and chosen that precise moment to fly gracefully over my head, out the store, and into the bustling labyrinth of the mall.
It was amazing and beautiful to see, really. I've never seen a budgie in flight before. They've always had their wings clipped, and despite the fact that they're wretchedly noisy little chatterboxes, they are quite pretty birds. Of course, after marvelling at the display, I came to my senses and wisely thought to inform the staff that one of their birds had, as they say, flown the coop. A harried young woman came out with a net attached to a long pole, and informed me that the bird had arrived several days before, but had escaped before they'd had the chance to clip its wings. It had been fluttering about the store since then, evading capture a display of unexpected wileyness. Anyway, the bird continued to elude its captors, because the ceilings in the mall were exceptionally high, and offered plenty of ornamental ledges upon which a small bird could easily perch and be safe from any net. After it was apparent that the clerk wasn't tall enough to catch the bird, I offered to help. So, I took the net, and started running up and down the corridors, chasing a bird that was quite content to madly bat against walls (making some impressive -thumps-), perch in the elusive hidey holes of a large 'Zellers' sign, and generally be uncooperative.
I think the most darling part of the adventure was that the kittens in the display windows noticed the excitement, and stopped chasing each other around and fixated upon the fascinating, fluttering budgie instead. Some instinctive part of their mad little minds recognized that this was a bird, and they pressed their little paws up against the glass and stared in rapt fascination. Simply adorable.
In the end, I was victorious, and I trapped the budgie in the net along the painted metal doorframes of the (universally recognizable) glass mall exit doors. Another clerk came along to assist, and she got me to slowly lower the net, holding against the glass, while she gently scooped the bird, net and all, into her hands. The first clerk took the pole from me, and holding the net at different ends, they gingerly walked back into the store to put the bird in some sort of cage. The kittens were still staring, standing on their trembling hind legs, hoping to see more birdies.
I felt distinctly glad to have helped. It wasn't really super-heroic or anything, but it was fun and involved kindness to small animals. And being useful. Surely this was some penance for the long line of hamsters that met tragic ends in my care as a child.
Wednesday, June 04, 2003 Now that it's June, however, and I'm no longer pressed with studying for exams, I have some time to devote to puttering. Additionally, I'm momentarily employed, implying that I should well have the means to undertake some repairs. In fact, my new job requires me to fix my PC, as the work has to be done on WordPerfect which, as any exasperated Macintosh user can tell you, exists nowadays for the PC-compatible word only. ASIDE: thank you, Corel, your contribution to the betterment of my existence is duly noted. Mutter.
Anyway, the gist of my tirade is essentially this: I need to use Corel WordPerfect, my PC has said program, and the only thing that stood in the way of that happy fact and me is the dead and departed power supply. Luckily, power supplies are fairly cheap, as I'm fairly poor. I'd never actually installed one before, but since every other aspect of a computer's guts has known the taste of my big monkey hands at one time or another, I figured changing a power supply couldn't be any worse. In fact, since power supplies don't require drivers (and, better still, do not say "Plug and Play" at any point in their packaging), I figured it should actually be easier than anything else I've ever had to install and configure. Happily, this is in fact true. It was mindlessly easy. As a matter of fact, changing the outside lightbulb is harder -- it involves a ladder.
My computer now works perfectly. Let the income-earning begin!
Today I also helped out some very nice (and beleaguered) people at my local pet store. I was there with my friend Mélanie, on an errand to buy some tasty crickets for my hungry li'l tree frogs, and it was just about closing time. This part of the process went quite smoothly -- however, my good friend was waiting outside and looking at the sweet widdle kittens in the window (for those who know Ottawa, it was the Billings Bridge pet store) and, as I went outside (crickets in hand) to join her, I noticed something odd overhead. A budgie had detached itself from some hiding nook within the store, and chosen that precise moment to fly gracefully over my head, out the store, and into the bustling labyrinth of the mall.
It was amazing and beautiful to see, really. I've never seen a budgie in flight before. They've always had their wings clipped, and despite the fact that they're wretchedly noisy little chatterboxes, they are quite pretty birds. Of course, after marvelling at the display, I came to my senses and wisely thought to inform the staff that one of their birds had, as they say, flown the coop. A harried young woman came out with a net attached to a long pole, and informed me that the bird had arrived several days before, but had escaped before they'd had the chance to clip its wings. It had been fluttering about the store since then, evading capture a display of unexpected wileyness. Anyway, the bird continued to elude its captors, because the ceilings in the mall were exceptionally high, and offered plenty of ornamental ledges upon which a small bird could easily perch and be safe from any net. After it was apparent that the clerk wasn't tall enough to catch the bird, I offered to help. So, I took the net, and started running up and down the corridors, chasing a bird that was quite content to madly bat against walls (making some impressive -thumps-), perch in the elusive hidey holes of a large 'Zellers' sign, and generally be uncooperative.
I think the most darling part of the adventure was that the kittens in the display windows noticed the excitement, and stopped chasing each other around and fixated upon the fascinating, fluttering budgie instead. Some instinctive part of their mad little minds recognized that this was a bird, and they pressed their little paws up against the glass and stared in rapt fascination. Simply adorable.
In the end, I was victorious, and I trapped the budgie in the net along the painted metal doorframes of the (universally recognizable) glass mall exit doors. Another clerk came along to assist, and she got me to slowly lower the net, holding against the glass, while she gently scooped the bird, net and all, into her hands. The first clerk took the pole from me, and holding the net at different ends, they gingerly walked back into the store to put the bird in some sort of cage. The kittens were still staring, standing on their trembling hind legs, hoping to see more birdies.
I felt distinctly glad to have helped. It wasn't really super-heroic or anything, but it was fun and involved kindness to small animals. And being useful. Surely this was some penance for the long line of hamsters that met tragic ends in my care as a child.
After five years of reliable employment with Agriculture Canada, job hunting is a relatively new experience for me. So far, I'm averaging an output of between 1-3 different job applications each and every day, and that's been going on fairly steadily for the past month. I've had four interviews in that time, but no summer jobs as yet. Does anyone know if this is normal? It's very frustrating to hear nothing back, because all you can do is speculate about what sets one candidate apart from another, and whether it was this word or that bullet on your resume that makes it so unappealing. It's enough to make a person superstitious. I'm going to start dripping chicken blood into a flaming chalice each time I deliver, e-mail, or fax out a CV, in the hopes that if my years of experience with legal procedures and client service, software, web design, and superhuman typing speeds (of 80 words per minute) can't find me a job, then perhaps Satan will.
Well, actually, I do have a job now, which is my super swell-tastic news for the day, which will perhaps be rather refreshing after all my petty whining. It's just a week-long contract, but it's still enjoyable and challenging work, and pays tremendously well. My contract proposal was accepted today by Health Canada, which was looking for someone to transcribe the proceedings of a recent meeting on blood safety. I get to work from home (it was recorded onto videotape), use my own equipment (my iBook and my TV), and although I'll be required to independently familiarize myself a lot of medical terminology and wear my fingers down to nubs, I'll also be earning a fantastic twenty dollars an hour. It's so wonderful to have something to do. I was starting to fear that I might develop a taste for daytime television mainstays Dr. Phil and that charlatan who claims to talk to dead people. And while the government gets the work done for a bargain (other transcribers charge fifty dollars an hour), I get to pay my bills and eat. Everyone wins, especially me! I could also stand to get a smashing reference at the end of this, or even more work, if everyone is satisfied with my work. I'm only awaiting final approval of the contract to begin, which might happen as soon as tomorrow, but no later than Monday.
Meanwhile, however, I must continue to prostitute myself to prospective employers, because that wondrous work will be all over nearly as soon as it starts, and I'll start being poor and boring again.
Stay tuned.
Sunday, June 01, 2003 Well, actually, I do have a job now, which is my super swell-tastic news for the day, which will perhaps be rather refreshing after all my petty whining. It's just a week-long contract, but it's still enjoyable and challenging work, and pays tremendously well. My contract proposal was accepted today by Health Canada, which was looking for someone to transcribe the proceedings of a recent meeting on blood safety. I get to work from home (it was recorded onto videotape), use my own equipment (my iBook and my TV), and although I'll be required to independently familiarize myself a lot of medical terminology and wear my fingers down to nubs, I'll also be earning a fantastic twenty dollars an hour. It's so wonderful to have something to do. I was starting to fear that I might develop a taste for daytime television mainstays Dr. Phil and that charlatan who claims to talk to dead people. And while the government gets the work done for a bargain (other transcribers charge fifty dollars an hour), I get to pay my bills and eat. Everyone wins, especially me! I could also stand to get a smashing reference at the end of this, or even more work, if everyone is satisfied with my work. I'm only awaiting final approval of the contract to begin, which might happen as soon as tomorrow, but no later than Monday.
Meanwhile, however, I must continue to prostitute myself to prospective employers, because that wondrous work will be all over nearly as soon as it starts, and I'll start being poor and boring again.
Stay tuned.
Tomorrow I am once again running myself through that infamous, bloody rigamarole of pain, suffering, and ritualized supplication known as the job search. I have an interview at 3:30 with a placement agency -- they told me that they have a job in mind quite similar to what I was doing before at Agriculture Canada, such as scanning and creating graphics and designing web pages. I'm quite excited, but also rather skeptical about the process. I mean, false starts and dashed hopes litter the battlefield of employment opportunities just like craters and dead civilians litter the disputed sands of that other land of opportunity known as Iraq. Inevitably, something stupid and uncontrollable strips the magical possibility of gainful employment away. On one occasion, it was the fact that I didn't get to the phone quickly enough for a rush job that had to be filled by 5pm that day. By the time I called back (half an hour later), the job was already taken. And, well, I've already recounted the sorry tale of the swell job opportunity in litigation support that only required, besides the many other skills and qualifications I amply possess, secret level security clearance. Sigh. But Rob the compulsive overachiever is learning something about getting used to disappointment and failure, at least. That is -- real life. Not every job is going to be a sure thing. Not everything I try is going to work perfectly. I can only do so much. So, I'm getting better at dusting myself off each time I hit the pavement, and showing up for the next interview with enthusiasm, and updating my resume with good-natured aplomb.
It's been a long month, however, and I'm looking forward to actual income. Right now I'm living on the kindness of my friends and loved ones, which on the one hand makes me feel tremendously rich (in the sense of being surrounded by loving people who want to see me with a roof over my head and peanut butter in the cupboard), but also makes me feel wretchedly poor.
Ah, but I suppose suffering builds character. Here's hoping the summer fills me up with that, at least.
It's been a long month, however, and I'm looking forward to actual income. Right now I'm living on the kindness of my friends and loved ones, which on the one hand makes me feel tremendously rich (in the sense of being surrounded by loving people who want to see me with a roof over my head and peanut butter in the cupboard), but also makes me feel wretchedly poor.
Ah, but I suppose suffering builds character. Here's hoping the summer fills me up with that, at least.
I've been a blur of manic activity since my last update (around, oh, last summer). I will talk about my first year of law school in the weeks ahead. For the time being, however, I thought I would get a new version of the daily snivel set up that would facilitate more timely updates. To that end, I have actually resigned myself to setting up a "blogger" account that will manage my posts for me. That way, if I have the inkling to write, I won't have to also have the inkling to markup a new entry and archive past rants. We'll see how it goes, and I would appreciate any feedback on the new format.
For the past couple of weeks, I have been job-hunting, which is a maddening experience. After five years working for Agriculture Canada, the dreaded time has finally arisen: there wasn't the money to hire me back this summer. I've been dreading this inevitable day ever since I started working there, as my co-workers have always been wonderful, the work was challening, and the money (I must confess) was swell. Deep down, of course, I also knew what a miserable experience searching for work tends to be. Keeping an excellent job, aside from every other conceivable benefit, means being free from looking for a new job.
Alas, now I'm looking, and not getting very far. The most frustrating part must be the false starts and dashed hopes. This week, for example, I interviewed with a placement agency that had an incredible job well suited to someone with my computer and legal skills. They kept me at the company for four hours so that they could assess my linguistic skills (English: 94 percent proficiency; French: 16 percent. Rob will have to work on that), undergo testing of my familiarity with various computer applications, and get me on the application of a secret level security clearance. Yikes. I already had what is known as "enhanced reliability" clearance, but the job requires looking at privileged and confidential legal documents. I had to account for everything I've done and everywhere I've lived for the past ten years. Subsequently, I was called in this morning for another interview, this time at the house of the CEO of the company. It's a firm with a huge business in litigation support right now. All the big law firms are working to have their cases digitally scanned and archived for easy retrieval and dissemination, and this company specializes in going on-site and scanning boxes and boxes of documents. They make a buck a page and often have to scan thousands (sometimes tens of thousands) of pages. Unlike my willy-nilly says of nursemaiding a scanner one page at a time, several minutes at a time, the scanners they use have automatic document feeders and can process a page a second. Zoom. Big business and big money.
The problem, however, is that I don't have my secret security clearance yet (it could take as much as a month for CSIS to turn my life upside down). So someone else got the big job starting Monday (tackily, he was there with me for a joint interview of three). I got a promise that there would be work if my security clearance comes through, or they have work that only requires enhanced clearance. Until then, my efforts to ward off starvation continue.
So boo.
I also have a wild, baby squirrel trapped in my bedroom right now. I have no idea where it came from, except that my cat woke me up yesterday morning as he was playing with the poor, terrified thing, and it was screaming like nothing on this world. It spends most of its time hiding behind my furniture. I spent an hour last night pulling my room apart trying to find the damn thing, and chasing it around the room when it jumped and ran about -- not to mention when I screamed like a little girl when I pulled my bed out from the wall and it ran across my foot. I set out a live-release trap today, and hope that this will catch it. Meanwhile, my roommate found a drowned squirrel in our toilet this afternoon, so I can only suppose that there's a nest somewhere under the house around the pipes and insulation, and they're coming up through a small hole in my cabinet and running into trouble. Lousy wildlife. Perhaps I could learn to eat them. That would solve two problems at once.
For the past couple of weeks, I have been job-hunting, which is a maddening experience. After five years working for Agriculture Canada, the dreaded time has finally arisen: there wasn't the money to hire me back this summer. I've been dreading this inevitable day ever since I started working there, as my co-workers have always been wonderful, the work was challening, and the money (I must confess) was swell. Deep down, of course, I also knew what a miserable experience searching for work tends to be. Keeping an excellent job, aside from every other conceivable benefit, means being free from looking for a new job.
Alas, now I'm looking, and not getting very far. The most frustrating part must be the false starts and dashed hopes. This week, for example, I interviewed with a placement agency that had an incredible job well suited to someone with my computer and legal skills. They kept me at the company for four hours so that they could assess my linguistic skills (English: 94 percent proficiency; French: 16 percent. Rob will have to work on that), undergo testing of my familiarity with various computer applications, and get me on the application of a secret level security clearance. Yikes. I already had what is known as "enhanced reliability" clearance, but the job requires looking at privileged and confidential legal documents. I had to account for everything I've done and everywhere I've lived for the past ten years. Subsequently, I was called in this morning for another interview, this time at the house of the CEO of the company. It's a firm with a huge business in litigation support right now. All the big law firms are working to have their cases digitally scanned and archived for easy retrieval and dissemination, and this company specializes in going on-site and scanning boxes and boxes of documents. They make a buck a page and often have to scan thousands (sometimes tens of thousands) of pages. Unlike my willy-nilly says of nursemaiding a scanner one page at a time, several minutes at a time, the scanners they use have automatic document feeders and can process a page a second. Zoom. Big business and big money.
The problem, however, is that I don't have my secret security clearance yet (it could take as much as a month for CSIS to turn my life upside down). So someone else got the big job starting Monday (tackily, he was there with me for a joint interview of three). I got a promise that there would be work if my security clearance comes through, or they have work that only requires enhanced clearance. Until then, my efforts to ward off starvation continue.
So boo.
I also have a wild, baby squirrel trapped in my bedroom right now. I have no idea where it came from, except that my cat woke me up yesterday morning as he was playing with the poor, terrified thing, and it was screaming like nothing on this world. It spends most of its time hiding behind my furniture. I spent an hour last night pulling my room apart trying to find the damn thing, and chasing it around the room when it jumped and ran about -- not to mention when I screamed like a little girl when I pulled my bed out from the wall and it ran across my foot. I set out a live-release trap today, and hope that this will catch it. Meanwhile, my roommate found a drowned squirrel in our toilet this afternoon, so I can only suppose that there's a nest somewhere under the house around the pipes and insulation, and they're coming up through a small hole in my cabinet and running into trouble. Lousy wildlife. Perhaps I could learn to eat them. That would solve two problems at once.
