Tomorrow I will do something I haven't done since Jimmy Carter was President of the United States. No, not "wash the kitchen floor," although that was a good guess and I can see where you might come up with it. I am going on a job interview. That's right; after sending out fifty resumes and pleading cover letters, I got a call. Actually, I got two calls, one for next Tuesday. The interesting thing is that they are in two completely different fields. This is the time in life where I get to re-invent myself.
For thirteen years I've been juggling piano and violin lessons, soccer tournaments, karate classes, and basketball, not to mention the gruelling schedule of the high school musical (both my boys love the stage and they're both great). But the nature of work has changed significantly since I left the wacky world of local television. There is no such thing as videotape anymore. Everything has gone digital. I don't want to go back to television anyway. But since I had been in "the biz" for 22 years, everything from finding leads to how to write one's resume has changed.
I took a course on interviewing. There is a wonderful non-profit group in the Boston area called "One Life At A Time" which helps people who are re-entering the workforce to catch up with what the world has been doing while they've been elsewhere. I re-wrote several forms of my resume, I did mock interviews which were recorded and critiqued, and I learned the culture of searching on-line for job openings. A dear friend of mine even gave me a three-piece suit for my birthday so that I could look professional on interviews. Luckily, it will be ready at the tailor's today. I told you I was short.
Now all I have to do is figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Substitute teacher? Concierge? Town official? Office administrator? Writer? Voice Over actress? The number of possibilities before me is almost enough to paralyze me. Another one of the gifts from my dear friend, Flanagan, is the sudden realization that I don't have all the time in the world to live my life. None of us knows how long he has. So I'll dust off my sensible shoes and go see what the world has to offer me and try to make them realize that I am just the right fit for whatever it is. Because once they meet me they have to love me...who wouldn't, right? But it's tough to get your foot in that door.
I'm off to research the companies I'll interview with (that's very important, I'm told). But first I think I'll go wash the kitchen floor, because you were right. It really is time.
For thirteen years I've been juggling piano and violin lessons, soccer tournaments, karate classes, and basketball, not to mention the gruelling schedule of the high school musical (both my boys love the stage and they're both great). But the nature of work has changed significantly since I left the wacky world of local television. There is no such thing as videotape anymore. Everything has gone digital. I don't want to go back to television anyway. But since I had been in "the biz" for 22 years, everything from finding leads to how to write one's resume has changed.
I took a course on interviewing. There is a wonderful non-profit group in the Boston area called "One Life At A Time" which helps people who are re-entering the workforce to catch up with what the world has been doing while they've been elsewhere. I re-wrote several forms of my resume, I did mock interviews which were recorded and critiqued, and I learned the culture of searching on-line for job openings. A dear friend of mine even gave me a three-piece suit for my birthday so that I could look professional on interviews. Luckily, it will be ready at the tailor's today. I told you I was short.
Now all I have to do is figure out what I want to be when I grow up. Substitute teacher? Concierge? Town official? Office administrator? Writer? Voice Over actress? The number of possibilities before me is almost enough to paralyze me. Another one of the gifts from my dear friend, Flanagan, is the sudden realization that I don't have all the time in the world to live my life. None of us knows how long he has. So I'll dust off my sensible shoes and go see what the world has to offer me and try to make them realize that I am just the right fit for whatever it is. Because once they meet me they have to love me...who wouldn't, right? But it's tough to get your foot in that door.
I'm off to research the companies I'll interview with (that's very important, I'm told). But first I think I'll go wash the kitchen floor, because you were right. It really is time.
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