Res-dismay

So I've started hunting for a job.

My husband and I mutually decided I should go back to work.  Actually no, it was more like Visa made the decision for us.  Apparently we like to spend money.  After closely inspecting our statement with a highlighter and a look of disbelief, I realized that if we wanted to keep eating food that doesn't come out of a can and feature a picture of a dog, I would have to find a source of income.  Not only that but we have an expensive data plan to support.  Not so shockingly I also found over a hundred dollars worth of McDonalds on there.  So...Visa not only believes that we're deadbeats but have atrocious eating habits as well.....

At first I tried finding freelance writing jobs but no one seemed to think I was funny, which is weird because quite honestly I find myself quite hilarious.  I raised some money on an online Facebook page called bidding wars. I made a hundred dollars before I ran out of stuff to sell. Everything else was soon bolted down by my husband who became quite nervous that he would come home to everyone sitting on pillows because I had sold the couches.   Having no skill other than hawking junk and writing sass, I went to my fall back plan-find some peon work where it didn't matter that I have spent the last two years philosophizing if the wheels on the bus still went 'round and 'round.  (Spoiler alert: they do!!)

So cue in the great job search of 2012..more like the mediocre search of 2012.  The first few weeks involved me looking at Craig's list and deciding that most part time jobs I were looking for involved a little too much lifting.  I would look at the computer and groan because I was pretty sure I was the first mother in the history of motherhood that had to go back to work.  But my laundry would miss me!  Luckily my husband assured me that my dirty laundry mountain would still be waiting for me at the end of the day...

I have a little bid of hesitation about re-entering the workforce.  Making the switch is never easy.  I remember the first week I was off on maternity leave.  I walked around the house with a lost look on my face and a pile of blank papers that I would fax to random numbers (after Lily became a toddler soon the pages would read: help me).  I also had no idea how to time my coffee breaks since there was no work that I was trying to avoid.  Now I have to do the reverse: get use to faxing documents instead of playing name that stain (spoiler alert: it is never chocolate).  First of all, the whole wearing pants thing will be a challenge or any article of clothing devoid of baby puke.  Also as a housewife I make my own hours.  Yes my toddler often demands overtime or my baby decides that I'm working a night shift, but once again, the pants...oh the pants.  I've been off the payroll for two years busting my butt for nothing more than a sippy cup thrown at my head and being called a stinky butt.  Yes if I go back to retail it will probably be the same except with adults but maybe it would be nice to get a paycheck at the end of the day. 

The first hurtle was of course the resume.  On my first round of EI in 2010 the government made me go to this job search course that was suppose to give me a resume that would amaze potential employers and make them want to hire me on the spot.  By this they obviously meant a resume that looked like I rolled it in dirt and then threw up on it because that is exactly what I got.  In fact, I ended up with a resume that would only be good if I was applying at a mental hospital...as a patient.  I ended up just using the same resume that I created in highschool.  Then the cover letter...I always have difficulty with this one because I feel like I have to kiss butt.  I wish I could just write: I can do this job, let me be great!!!

Next roll in Craig's list.  It is hard not to get distracted by the grammatically incorrect, misspelled ads or the employers who want you to have a PHD, 10years of experience but only want to pay $2 an hour.
How could one not troll?
After wasting a few nights of writing comical cover letters to certain ads I remebered what I was actually suppose to be doing.
So I applied for a few select places, wrote a clever cover letter and sent my resume on its way.  So far I've heard nothing, but luckily there is always a spot for me here, at home, during the toddler power hour.

So wish me luck, hopefully I will find what I'm looking for.