Job hunting has been a part of the old housienda here for much of the past year, it seems. Either one of us or the other has been looking for a job. It’s not something either of us has had to do much, largely because I was determined to hideout in my house for 18 years pretending to have a “real job” and because the Janmeister works in healthcare in a position that is in fairly high demand.
Looking for a job feels just like dating. The parallels are so close, I can’t help but see the similarities, and in some respects, loathe each for the same reason.
True, job hunting has gotten much easier with the advent of Monster.com and my personal favorite, Indeed. Instead of combing through all the personals in the newspaper, sorry, all the jobs in the newspaper, you simply go online and tool around Match.com, uh, Monster.com.
There, you can quickly scan the available matches, learn more about them, and if you like, contact them for a “date.” In the case of an online dating site, that means an email so the prospective significant other can check you out. In the working world, it means filling out a lengthy and sometimes ridiculously complex job application instead (eHarmony?), all in the hopes that either of them – the date or the employer – will contact you.
As we all know, we fudge a lot in both worlds. If I recall, 80% of all resumes are works of at least partial fiction. Having dated for some time in the world of Match.com and Plentyoffish.com, I can tell you that the same is true of dating profiles. Some of these have been so far off the mark that really, the author of it should have been a Pulitzer Prize winner for Fiction.
If we’re lucky and did our job correctly in the hunt, we will eventually go out on a date, or in the working world, get a job interview. Same thing really. You get all dolled up in your most smashing attire, you arrive on time or even early, your tummy is filled with butterflies, you are careful not to swear or commit any other faux pas, you are perfect in your manners and engaging in your conversation. Questions fly back and forth. You answer them somewhat truthfully. At the end of your time together, a decision is in the offing. Will there be a second date?
If there is, you’re back at it all over again. If not, well, there was no chemistry obviously, or you simply didn’t measure up to their expectations. There is the eventual feeling of rejection as you get the “you’re a nice guy, but other candidates had qualifications that more closely matched our needs” email. No one seems to call anymore in either world anymore. And you’re back on the market.
Eventually, you find someone who wants to date you again. And perhaps again. If they like you a lot but aren’t quite sure, they may ask you to go steady, or train with them. This can be an actual training situation, a temp role, or even an internship.
“We’ll see how things go” is the real message here. If you are up to the task, you may get the offer you’ve been seeking. Of course, you say yes, even though the situation may not be ideal, because you know you may not get another offer.
The marriage begins. The ceremony is fairly brief. You sign some papers and you’re hitched. The next day you experience what it’s like. Everything changes on a dime. All your routines are destroyed, you’re at the behest of someone you may barely know, they expect you to perform like a circus animal, and if you’re really good at what you do, you either get paid or laid, depending if you’re in dating or working mode. Some men and women get paid to get laid, I know. Perhaps that is the true dream job.
The rest of us assimilate. We learn new habits. We learn things about ourselves we never knew. We learn something about the other we may have never knew before. It’s a lot of work, we find. The perks may not seem worth it eventually. We may find that the gig wasn’t really what we expected or it wasn’t the bill of goods that was initially sold to us. We become disillusioned and even despondent.
So we go trolling on the market again. It’s not really cheating, we tell ourselves. We’re just testing the waters. We go back on Monster or Match and do a little “market research.” We are initially intrigued enough to enter into the communication phase. We meet. We share details about ourselves. Someone else is interested and makes us an offer we can’t refuse.
But wait, we’re still hitched elsewhere. What to do, what to do. Sure, we could turn down the new relationship, but it seems so exciting and it appears to have more perks. No, there’s only one thing to do. We have to end everything.
If we’re really brave, we stroll into the room and tell them to their face that they are no longer the one. You want a divorce. There, you said it. In rare cases, they may make you an offer that wants you to stay where you’re at, even if it’s not ideal. And sometimes you take them up on it.
Other times, you jump ship. You stick to your guns and walk out the door. You pack up all your things in a box, say your goodbyes, turn over your keys and leave. It’s over. Done.
If you’re really lucky, the new one is everything it was promised. Most often it’s not. The same ol’, same ol’ wrapped up in a seemingly sexy package. You know what it’s like when you’re dating. You’re look your best, they look their best, and you’re both on your best behavior.
It’s only when you wake up in the morning and the shine has worn off that you truly understand the consequences of what you did. You are filled with regret. And then you remember that there’s an old friend waiting for you. You go to the other room and there it is. Indeed.
In the Emerald City happily married to my new “state” of affairs,
– Robb