I survived a slow and pitiful career suicide attempt only to turn around and shoot myself in the face with a cannon.
After two years as a prosecutor in Arizona, I left my job and moved back to the economically-challenged Midwest with no leads and no contacts. I had experience in exactly one area of the law, putting drunk drivers in jail for a few days. I had never filed a lawsuit, never drafted a contract, never drafted a will, never negotiated a settlement, never even had a client. To 99% of legal employers out there, for those two years I might as well had been a street-sweeper (do they still exist?). If anyone was bound to have his face show up in a FAIL jpg, it was this guy. It was to be a slow and painful process, at the end of which I was to ultimately come to accept the fact that I had bled my career to death.
Yet still, I showed up and started sending out my resume to anyone with a job listing. All I wanted at that point was an interview. Just let me show up and sell myself in person. Most didn’t respond. A few were kind enough to send a rejection letter and then immediately repost the job posting on the state bar website. Thanks?
Months went by without a positive peep. Then on a Monday morning not long after the new year, I got a call from the local DA’s office, a place I had sent my resume to some eight months prior. “Are you still interested in interviewing with the DA’s office?” YES!!! I was in initial interview two days later. The old veteran I spoke with liked my resume. He liked it a lot. He explained that this was just the first step of the interviewing process; the screening interview where they make sure the applicant doesn’t show up wearing a tinfoil hat screaming about the arguments he’s been having with the local light post. I passed.
He said next would come a very long series of interviews that I could expect to take several days and several trips back to the office. I had to get sniffed out by all the department heads. People go through these interviews, and then if they’re good they get put on “the list.” They don’t get hired, they just become officially hirable. Then, they sit and wait for their name to get to the top of the list, and when a position opens up, they get offered the spot. It wasn’t quick. My wife knew someone who waited for 8 months on the list without getting called before she gave up and found something else.
They called me back the next day. I was back in their office in less than a week. I took care of my long series of interviews in one morning. They called me again the following Monday. I got the job.
After hearing nothing for months and months, I had a job . They wanted me. They wanted me bad. I was to start the following Monday, exactly three weeks after they first called me. I was in. I was working again. And it only took three weeks. Three weeks.
And three weeks to the day after I started, I quit. Face, meet cannon.
The “why” for that is . . . I’m still trying to figure out how to put it. “Complex” seems so clichéd these days. Boring? Probably. Confusing? Likely. Depressing? Yeah, depressing. Let’s just say that halfway through my first day I felt like jumping out the window and running away to a beach in Mexico where I’d work on boats. And that may have been my best day.
I knew I couldn’t work there for long. After my second day I started sending out new resumes (on which I could indicate that I was currently employed!). Just stick with it until another job comes along. Just stick with it for a couple months. Just stick with it for a month. Just . . . DONE.
So now I’m screwed. And what do people who are screwed do? They start a blog!
I don’t know what this will end up being. It’s not a diary. It’s not a place for me just to complain about things. It will probably contain a lot of thoughts on sports, music, and insights into the little ticks the world can’t help but display. It might be funny sometimes. It might be unreadable all the time. It might be something I give up on in three weeks. Whatever it ends up being, right now it’s new. It’s an idea. A better idea, maybe.